


Beautiful

by ChaosRocket, sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Canon Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRocket/pseuds/ChaosRocket, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: A young tomb keeper has been locked in the tomb he guards since birth because of his powers, but one day, a thief breaks in and changes his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic Sitabethel and I have been working on for quite a while. It took a long time, mainly because I was being really slow with writing. But now it's almost done, so we'll probably be posting a new chapter about once or twice a week.
> 
> Bakura's name in ancient Egypt in this fic is Bakari, which means "noble oath" in ancient Egyptian. Malik is called Mahes (a name I, Chaos, used for him in a previous Citron fic.) He's named after an Egyptian god of war and protection whose name means "he who is true beside her."
> 
> Thanks to SuperSteffy for the beta!

_Let my ib be bound to yours; let your ba be bound to mine._  
_They are drawn together always; they will reunite; let nothing prevent it._  
_The trial we take is this; I trust we overcome:_  
_Let my ren be no more, and your ren be no more._  
_I do not know you, nor you me._  
_We forget, never to remember, save the day the ruler of your ib is cast aside so that you may embrace my ib instead._  
_If this shall be fulfilled, then let us be bound together for all time, never to be separated._  
_In exchange I offer this sacrifice:_  
_What has happened before will once again. I will endure the sufferings of this life anew._  
_I call on Thoth to grant me this._  
_Let it be done._

 

* * *

 

_Smoke distorted the drifting colors on the walls, shards of scarlet and ochre wavering across the stones. The light came from the brazier at the opposite end of the room and two small flax lamps sitting on either side of the brazier. Mahes sat on the floor, knees curled into his chest and arms circled around his legs, as if making himself small could spare him from what would happen next._

_His father stood in front of the brazier, stoking the fire, watching the flames sink low as time progressed, leaving glowing, crimson coals. He blocked some of the light from Mahes's view, his shadow stretching across the floor and rising up against the wall._

_Mahes sat in a corner, in his father's shadow. He pressed his face against his knees, suppressing a small whimper. His father hadn't spoken one word since he dragged Mahes into the lowest chamber in the tomb - an empty room, a dead end to confuse would-be thieves. Mahes watched his father's back. His shadow shifted from time to time as he moved the chisel in the coals until it glowed a similar red._

_The back of Mahes's throat burned. A sour taste overpowered his mouth. Mahes couldn't go through another purification ceremony. His eyes, the color of dried sage blossoms, jerked towards the exit. He yearned for it - a dash of his legs and he'd be away from the room and racing down the hallway. But there was nowhere to go. His father would catch him. The punishment would be worse. Mahes couldn't imagine worse, but he knew his father could, and would, if Mahes dared to run._

_“I didn't mean to.” Mahes's voice was small, his face round and cherubic, the face of a young child. “There was an asp and I was frightened, and it happened again on accident.”_

_“Better to trust the gods to save your soul than to trust the demon to save your flesh,” his father said, voice grave and heavy._

_Only a few weak flames remained. The lack of light drained the color from the room, leaving everything sanguine and distorted. Mahes trembled._

_“I didn't mean to,” he repeated._

_“No.” His father removed the long, bronze chisel. It glowed red in the dark. “It's simply your nature, the self-preserving nature of a demon.”_

_“I'm sorry, Father."_

 

* * *

 

The moment the thief stepped into the pitch black tomb, he felt a hand grab him from behind, and something sharp pressed against his throat - a knife. So much for hoping this might be easy. The guard outside the tomb had been asleep, and Bakari had been able to simply walk right by. He'd thought this robbery would go much more smoothly than the one he'd attempted earlier, when a guard had slashed him underneath his eye. Afterwards, he’d decided to flee and try somewhere else. But now, with the sharp bronze against his throat, his hopes that this time it would be a simple heist were quickly vanishing.

"The guard outside this tomb- is he alive?" a voice asked him.

"Yes, he is," Bakari answered. And then: "This is a mistake. You're going to regret this."

He felt the knife press a little harder against his throat, but it still didn't break the skin. "I have nothing to fear from you," his captor's voice echoed in the tomb. "From your size, I'd guess you're hardly more than a child."

Bakari couldn't see the person holding on to him from behind, but based on the hot breath he felt on his cheek, he guessed the tomb guard was only slightly taller than him. "I doubt you're much older, you're most likely just barely an adult yourself."

He heard the other growl low in his throat. "You have no idea what I am."

Bakari thought quickly. "If you really think I'm a kid...that means you have no problem killing a child? If that's the case, at least look at me when you kill me. Have a little bit of honor."

His captor didn't let go, but the grip around Bakari slackened. It was enough for Bakari to execute a quick spin, pushing the other against a nearby wall and holding him in place with muscular arms. Bakari managed to reach down and squeeze the other's wrist until his hold on the knife loosened, and soon enough their position from a few minutes ago was reversed, with the tomb robber now holding the knife against the tomb keeper's throat.

"Don't kill me," the tomb keeper said, his voice strained. "If you let me go, I'll lead you straight to the treasure."

Bakari knew it was a trick. If he let the tomb keeper go, he would lead Bakari into one of the tomb's traps instead of to the treasure. But he decided to let it play out. He was far too smart and experienced to wander into a trap, and besides, he didn't like killing anyone if he didn't have to. "Alright," he agreed. "But remember I'll be following right behind you with this knife to your back."

Bakari let go of the other, and a moment later, he saw a small light flicker on- the guard had picked up an oil lamp, but the light was very dim.

"Don't try anything," Bakari warned as he began to follow the hooded figure down a tunnel. "You've used up all my mercy. Next time, I won't hesitate to slit your throat." The other didn't respond, and Bakari said, "I suppose you couldn't expect me to follow you with no light at all, but you certainly are keeping that lamp as dim as possible, aren't you? Think it'll make it more likely for me to make a mistake?"

He saw the figure in front of him flinch a bit at having been figured out. Obviously, the guard had no idea how skilled Bakari really was. Bakari skipped easily around a stone that was obviously triggered to set something off if it were stepped on.

A moment later, the guard glanced briefly behind him, giving Bakari his first look at the other's face. He couldn't see much in the darkness, but did see a pair of brilliant amethyst eyes catching the small amount of light.

"Why are you bleeding?" the tomb keeper asked, apparently having spotted the bloody mess below Bakari's right eye. "Did my father do that to you? He's the one who guards the outside of this tomb. How did you get past him?"

Bakari sighed. It was another tactic- trying to distract him with conversation. But it wouldn't be that easy to get him to make a mistake. He really was being underestimated. But he would play along.

“Your father was asleep." He laughed. He saw the low light from the lamp briefly glint off of something metallic near the wall and easily sidestepped the danger. "He's quite a lazy guard."

At Bakari's words, the other instantly rounded on him, his stance indicating that he was about to attack him. Bakari held up the knife warningly.

"Don't," was all he said.

The young tomb keeper apparently wasn't interested in dying that night, and he reluctantly turned back around and started walking again, this time at a slightly quicker pace. If the guard thought the faster pace would be a problem for Bakari, he was mistaken- Bakari noticed the other ducking slightly at some hidden danger he must have long ago memorized, and Bakari followed suit.

"You're a liar," the guard finally said. "My father would never sleep on the job. You must have fought him- how else would you get that wound?"

"What reason have I to lie? I'm obviously the one with an advantage here." Bakari lightly poked the knife into the other's back to demonstrate his point. "If I'd fought him, I'd tell you- in fact, I'd be bragging about fighting my way past him. He really was asleep- but believe what you want. It's nothing to me."

The other made a sound of irritation, but didn't respond further. They walked for a while longer, and Bakari thought he saw the other flinch every time he easily avoided any danger. After a while, the guard finally spoke again, apparently wanting to restart their argument from earlier.

"You know, only three people have gotten in here before you. So obviously my father is good at his job- not the type to fall asleep."

"What happened to the other three?"

"I killed them."

"So why didn't you kill me?" Bakari asked.

"You seem young. I shouldn't have hesitated, but...the others weren't nearly as young as you. I didn't really want to kill someone who's barely out of childhood."

"I'm not a kid," Bakari scoffed. Then, just to prove he could continue to walk quickly through the tomb in the low light while conversing without having any problems, he went on with the conversation, asking an idle question. "So, are you always here at the same time as your father?"

"I'm always here. I don't leave this place."

Bakari stopped in his tracks for a moment, shocked by the answer. "Always? Are you saying you've never been outside?" His voice betrayed something that almost sounded like sympathy.

"I can't go outside. I'd like to see the outside world, but if I went out, they'd see what I am-" the other suddenly cut himself off, his voice turning angry and embarrassed. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this!"

"To distract me so I'll step in a trap," Bakari said lightly, even as he sidestepped yet another area of danger.

The guard faltered in his step a bit.

"Didn't think I'd figured it out, did you?" Bakari laughed. "You think you're so smart. But I think it's become obvious by this point you're not going to trick me into getting myself killed. How about we quit playing games and you actually lead me to the treasure, as per our agreement?"

"I really can't do that," the guard said, and then he was whirling around, the lamp he carried clattering to the floor as he lunged at Bakari despite the knife he wielded. Bakari grabbed his wrists, momentarily stilling him, and then looked up and gasped at what he saw. The spin had caused the guard's hood to fall partway off his head, and the low light emanating from the lamp laying at their feet caught his blond hair, making it shine like gold in the dimness.

"You're a light-hair," Bakari said with awe.

The other stiffened. "What would you know about that?"

_Was that fear in his voice?_ Bakari wondered, as he marvelled at the stark contrast between pale hair and dark skin that was so rare to see.

Bakari knew plenty about it, though. He knew people with light hair, like himself, were able to summon their ka- and incredibly strong ka at that. While some with darker hair might be able to summon a ka with effort, light-hairs were naturals; usually, they could do it from a young age, and the ka would be especially powerful. Bakari’s own ka had been lent power from others, and had he not been a light-hair himself, he likely would never have been able to house or control such a strong ka. And the tomb keeper, with his pale hair, had that same preternatural ability with ka that he did. So this blond could be very, very useful to Bakari- much more useful than any other treasure he might find in this tomb.

Bakari chanced letting go of one of the youth's wrists, making sure to still hold the knife in a menacing way as he pulled his own hood down. The cloth slid off of his head, exposing a mess of silvery-white. "I know because I'm a light-hair, too."

The tomb keeper sucked in a sharp breath, a look of utter shock passing over his features. "It can't be...but...so you're like me. Then...then why haven't you killed me? You could have done it easily..."

Bakari grit his teeth before answering. "I don't use him if I don't need to. And besides, I don't like killing anyone if I don't have to."

"So you can actually _control_ it? And you don't like to kill? That's impossible..."

Things suddenly clicked together for Bakari. The guard had said he had to stay confined here because of what he was...had he been locked away simply because he was capable of summoning a powerful ka? Bakari felt a flash of anger on the youth's behalf.

"Of course I can control it. It just takes practice. And what are you talking about killing? It doesn't make you want to kill." Then inspiration struck him- something he could say that might make the young guard come with him. "But, if you want, I can teach you how to control it, too." He could take him under his wing, tutor him, and then, later, when he was strong, he could use the tomb keeper's powers to his advantage. There was so much he could do if he had the the help of another's ka...

"But we're part _demon_ ," the other insisted, sounding distraught. "Demons are always evil."

_Demon?_ Bakari thought. _Does_ _this kid think he’s a demon because of his ka? Is that what_ _he's been told?_ Bakari opened his mouth to disabuse of him of this notion, but then thought better of it. If the tomb keeper had been told his entire life that he harbored a demon inside him, a contradiction from a tomb robber wouldn't instantly convince him. He had to try a different tack.

"Well, you can clearly see that I don't like to kill- as you yourself said, you'd be dead already if I wanted you to be. I can control it, and I really can teach you how. Are you worried about accidentally hurting people? Because I can help you prevent that." He paused a moment. "I'm the only one who can help you. Only another...demon...could truly know how to control it, and show you how. I've lived with this my entire life, so I know all about it."

"But why would you help me?" the other asked warily.

"Because you're like me, so I feel sympathy for you. I know it's possible for you to control it, so there's no reason for you stay locked in this dreary place for your entire life. You can go outside and see the sun, and not worry about hurting people if you don't want to."

It was half true. Even though he wanted to use the blond for his powers, he _did_ feel disgusted with the way he'd been treated, the way the Pharaoh had _allowed_ this young tomb keeper to be treated- it wasn't right.

"Look, as a show of good faith, if you come with me, I won't even bother about the treasure. I'll leave here with only you. And on the way out, if you want, I can prove to you that I left your father alive. You _want_ to learn, don't you? So you don't accidentally hurt anyone else?" Bakari left it there, and let the silence stretch out between them for a moment, hoping his manipulation had worked.

Finally, the blond said, "Alright, I'll come with you." He sounded as if he were trying to control his voice, but Bakari could hear the undertone of giddiness. He probably didn't know whether or not to fully believe Bakari, but he had hope- and really, he was probably looking for any excuse to get out of this forsaken place.

"Come on then. I promise, things are going to get better from here on out." Bakari led the way out of the tomb, still clutching the knife to his side.


	2. Chapter 2

Mahes stared at his father, asleep and snoring with his back propped up against the tomb's outer wall.  
  
"See?" The thief gestured with his knife. "Asleep, just like I said."  
  
"Was he drugged?"  
  
"No, he wasn't drugged, you fool. He’s drunk. You can smell the wine from here!"  
  
Mahes frowned at the truth in the thief’s words. He wondered if the same thing happened the other times - the three times intruders came into the tomb, forcing Mahes to kill them. And if that was the case, how many other nights had his father sat, drunk and asleep, as Mahes guarded the tomb alone without knowing? Then a thought struck Mahes.  
  
Perhaps he drank because his wife- Mahes’s mother- was dead.  
  
She had died shortly after giving birth to Mahes, so he didn't remember her at all. His father always said it must have been the stress of birthing a demon child that killed her, that humans weren't meant to give birth to demons, so her body couldn't tolerate the labor and gave out. Even if she might have survived, the knowledge that she had borne a demon child would have surely sapped her will to go on living.

Mahes’s head sank down, eyes cast to the ground. He stared at the sand below his sandaled feet, wondering if he was making the right decision. More than anything, Mahes wanted to learn to control the demon within himself. However, could he trust a tomb robber- a man who earned his living by stealing from the Pharaohs that Mahes was sworn to protect?  
  
A short-tempered growl sounded from behind Mahes. "For the sake of the gods, can we go now? If he wakes up I'll have to kill him."  
  
Mahes’s hands clenched into fists. "You won't touch him."  
  
He swung a fist at the thief but froze before he could follow through on the movement because the honed, bronzed knife edge pressed against his collarbone before he had a chance to land a punch. The thief's eyes gleamed, a similar color to the stars behind him.

 "Hey, I'm helping you, remember? Stop fucking around and let’s go."  
  
Mahes backed away from the knife and turned back to his father. He watched him sleep and realized how frail and old the man looked with the tomb wall rising behind him. Mahes’s eyes studied each stone. Those stones had been his earth and sky for his entire life. Mahes turned and stared at the thief.

 "I still don't trust you."  
  
The thief snorted. Behind him, the sky spiraled out further than Mahes could see. So much indigo, so many stars, that Mahes wondered if he'd fall into the vastness, lose himself to it.  
  
"You should trust me."  
  
"Why?"  
  
The thief smirked, distorting the blood drying on his cheek. "Because...I'm the only one who can understand you. We’re light-hairs. We’re the same."  
  
Mahes frowned, eyes darting back and forth between his father and the thief, but in the end, the sky called to Mahes, the freedom of it.  
  
He pivoted in the sand, turning away from the tomb, his father, his entire life, and followed the thief.    
  
Mahes couldn't help himself from taking fast, deep breaths. It made him a little giddy, but he couldn't stop, not when the air smelled as fresh as it did. He drank in breath after breath, eyes half closed in ecstasy. A breeze pushed through the air, and the thief’s scent mingled with the wind. He was earthy and warm-scented and musty with sweat. The smell intrigued Mahes, but he would never admit it out loud.  
  
A loud snort jerked Mahes out of his thoughts. He stumbled, the sand beneath his feet more pliable than the stone floors he usually walked. Ahead of them, a great, brown creature pawed at the sand with a hoof. Mahes stepped back three paces.  
  
"What’s wrong with you?" the thief asked.  
  
Mahes only pointed at the creature ahead of them.  
  
The thief turned to look, and then looked at Mahes. "That’s Minkah. He’s just a horse."  
  
"That’s a horse?" Mahes asked. He’d seen pictures, painted on scrolls and carved on tomb walls, scenes of Pharaohs racing chariots or of royal stables, but a picture was nothing compared to the living flesh in front of Mahes.      
  
"You...really did spend your whole life underground, didn’t you?" the thief asked, wonder and disgust mingling in his words.  
  
"I told you I did."  
  
The thief ground his teeth, his free hand a fist. "That old man had no right to lock up a child because of the color of his hair."  
  
"It was for my own good- and everyone else’s."  
  
"No," the thief growled. "Your powers aren't a curse. You just need to learn how to use them."  
  
"Not a curse? How can you even say that? We're demons. We’re abominations to the gods!"  
  
The thief opened his mouth to argue, but then slammed his jaw shut. "Look, none of that matters right now. We need to leave and find a spot to camp."  
  
He grabbed Mahes’s wrist. The tomb guard slapped the thief’s hand away. "Don’t touch me."  
  
"Idiot, Minkah doesn't like strangers. I have to get him used to your smell or he'll bite." He took Mahes by the hand and led him to the horse.  
  
Mahes shied away, backing into the thief.  
  
"Scared?"  
  
"No," Mahes snapped.  
  
The thief grinned. "Relax."  
  
He took the back of Mahes’s hand and reached it out to the beast's nostrils. Warm, moist breath tickled Mahes's palm and he couldn't keep from giggling as a rough tongue licked his hand. Mikah had a smell similar to the thief, only much stronger and even more wild. Mahes reached out his and the thief’s joined hands so he could touch the horse’s shining coat. The texture of the stiff, fine hairs covering Minkah’s body delighted Mahes. The horse’s mane felt coarse and wiry, but the rest of the coat was sleek and warm.       
  
"He likes you." The thief’s breath tickled Mahes’s cheek.  
  
Mahes suddenly realized just how close they stood. Even through his robes, Mahes could feel the thief's body heat, and their hands stroked the horse's cheek in unison. He turned his head, and looked at the thief. Their eyes met for a long moment before they both stepped away from each other, looking in opposite directions.  
  
"Well...that should be good enough." The thief hoisted himself up onto the creature's back, reaching down towards Mahes.  
  
Mahes hesitated for a moment. He didn't fear the horse, but taking the thief’s hand seemed somehow strange. But then the thief smirked as if preparing to tease Mahes, so the tomb guardian reached up, grabbing the thief’s forearms and allowing himself to be lifted to Minkah’s back.  
  
"You’ve never ridden before, so you'd better hold tight, and don't try to steer. Let me handle it."  
  
Mahes frowned, lighting his hands on the thief's sides. "I'll manage."  
  
"You're going to fall off if you don’t hang on."  
  
"I said I'll manage."  
  
"Fine." The thief prompted the horse forward.  
  
Mahes lost his balance as soon as they moved, crashing to the sand. "You fucking asshole." Mahes spat sand out of his mouth. "Don’t go so fast!"  
  
"Horses were made by the gods to go fast." The thief turned the horse around, looking down at Mahes.  
  
Mahes glared. He didn't like the thief looking down from above as if he were superior somehow. Mahes pushed himself up, brushed himself off, and prepared to jump back onto Minkah’s back.    
  
The thief held out his hand once again. "Look, I don't give a damn if you trust my motivations or not, but if I'm going to mentor you - you need to follow my instructions." He pulled Mahes back up. "Now hold on, you freaking brat."    
  
Mahes scowled, furrowing his brows, but he wrapped his arms around the thief.  
  
"Not so low," the thief hissed.  
  
Mahes snorted. "I'm just holding on as per your instruction."  
  
The thief grit his teeth and they took off once again. This time Mahes knew what to expect, and between holding onto Minkah with his knees, and to the thief with his arms, Mahes managed to stay seated as they moved. His stomach lurched, and it felt like the world was plunging ever forward, but after a few minutes, Mahes adjusted. Another mile passed and Mahes yelped into the star-shot sky, demanding that the thief make them go faster.  
  
The wind sucked the breath from his lungs and tugged at his hair and robes. It pulled tears from the corners of his eyes, but he didn't mind because there were no walls around him. By the time Minkah slowed and stopped, Mahes panted from exhilaration.

"Why did we stop? Let’s ride some more."  
  
The thief chuckled. "Maybe you're not done, but Minkah is. If we ran him more he’d go lame and we’d be walking through the desert." He glanced over his shoulder. "You can let go any time, you know."  
  
Mahes jerked his hands back, frowning and climbing to the sand below. "It’s about time. You smell like the horse."  
  
"You smell like a tomb," he said, calm and quiet.  
  
He didn't mean it as an insult, but Mahes clenched his fists. The thief ignored him, unpacking several bags secured to Minkah. He built a fire, and then he worked on grooming the horse.  
  
"Are you capable of getting water without getting lost?"  
  
"Of course I am."  
  
The thief raised an eyebrow. "There's a well fifteen minutes from here to the north." The thief handed Mahes a small wooden tub. "Fill this up, as well as our waterskins."  
  
Mahes nodded, looking around. He knew north was up on a map, and that Ra brought the sun into the eastern sky every morning, but it was night so that didn't help.  
  
The thief rolled his eyes, tapping Mahes on the shoulder and pointing.  "Looks like I'll be teaching you more than I thought."  
  
"Shut up." Mahes began marching north.  
  
"Hey, what's your name, anyway?"  
  
"I'm not telling my name to a demon!"  
  
"What does that matter if we're the same?" the thief shouted.  
  
Mahes stopped, turned half-way. "Tell me your name?"  
  
"Bakari."  
  
Mahes snorted, continuing north. "There's nothing noble about you."  
  
"Hey, asshole, tell me your name now!"  
  
"Ha! No way!" Mahes grinned. He’d decided that it was fun to rile the thief, Bakari, into a mild frenzy.  
  
He returned with the water and gave the bucket's worth to Minkah. Sitting by the fire Bakari scowled and handed Mahes a small loaf of bread.  
  
"I don't know why I'm feeding a brat like you."  
  
"I"m not a brat - you're the one who looks like a kid."  
  
"Until you tell me your name, you're just _the brat_.”

"Whatever. I don't care what you call me." Mahes ate his bread and drank water. They spent their meal glaring at one another, a mix of distrust, frustration, and perhaps mild fascination. Mahes broke the silence first. "You should let me clean that wound so it doesn't get infected."  
  
Bakari blinked, touching his bloodied cheek. "Forgot about this. Yeah, you might as well be useful and tend to it."  
  
"Don’t make it sound like I owe you." Mahes frowned.  
  
"Don't you? I’m taking you under my wing, after all."  
  
"And I watered your horse. I’m not freeloading off of you." Mahes took flax linen and ointment he’d brought with him from his own travel bag, using the linen to clean Bakari’s face and then applying the ointment. "And I offered to treat you. I don't owe you - I’m being nice."  
  
Bakari laughed. "Yeah, you're so nice."  
  
"Shut up, or I won't finish."    
  
"Oh no. I’ll die without your care."  
  
"Are you always this annoying?"  
  
"Are you always a brat?"  
  
Mahes shoved the ointment back into the bag and sat as far away from Bakari as he could, refusing to speak to him further.  
  
Bakari only laughed at him. "You'd better get some sleep. I don't want you falling off the horse again because you're tired."  
  
Mahes frowned. "There’s only one bedroll."  
  
"I’ll take first watch. We'll switch half way to sunrise."  
  
Mahes didn't think he'd sleep, but it felt as if he'd only closed his eyes for a minute before Bakari shook him awake. Mahes swatted at him. "Go away."  
  
"Wake up, brat. It's your watch."  
  
Mahes stood, rubbing his eyes. "Don't call me brat, asshole."  
  
"This asshole is going to sleep." Bakari crawled under the cover. "Stay awake during your watch."  
  
"I’ve guarded a Pharaoh’s tomb my entire life. I think I can manage two rocks and our campfire." Mahes wandered to one of the said rocks and used it as a chair. He looked up into the sky, still amazed at how endless it seemed. His thoughts wandered as his eyes shifted between sky and land. The desert stretched out, endless as the sky. "The world’s so big," Mahes whispered to himself.    
  
He’d seen maps, but maps were lines on parchment. Mahes took a deep breath and exhaled. He felt like laughing without end, but he pressed his lips together to keep from making any noise. A euphoric swell swept through Mahes as the sky began to fade to gray. He’d never seen a sunrise, but instinctively knew it was close: locusts sang in the distance, the rock Mahes sat on sweated with dew, and Minkah woke, neighing softly, most likely begging for breakfast.  
  
Mahes expected it to all heave and break at once - Ra’s chariot blessing the world with light. But it didn't happen all at once. Orange kissed the horizon with slow, languid traces of color that gradually shifted to yellow. Mahes realized he was holding his breath, and he forced himself to exhale. The wait grated on every nerve, but he needed to see it, the sunrise. He needed to prove to himself that everything that had happened to him in the last twenty four hours was real and not a fevered dream.  
  
Then it came, searing gold that made his eyes burn when he stared, but he stared anyway, refusing to turn away. It was...beautiful, the morning, the sunrise. He hadn't known that anything could be so beautiful. As he stared, the light pierced into his eyes, causing tears to spill down his cheeks. He had to remind himself to breathe again as he watched. The sun was almost too beautiful to stand.  
  
A hand lighted on his shoulder. Mahes jerked when he realized Bakari stood beside him. He waited to be teased, expecting Bakari to ridicule him for the tears.  
  
"Don't worry," Bakari said. "Your eyes will adjust in a day or two and the light won't blind you so much." He smirked. "You probably shouldn't stare directly into the sun, though."  
  
A small, tentative smile curled around the edge of Mahes’s mouth. "My name is Mahes."

 

* * *

  
  
Before the day got too late, they jumped on Bakari's horse and headed out. Bakari's home was less than a day's ride away, and they reached his place before sundown. Bakari climbed down off of Minkah first, and then offered Mahes a hand. At first, Mahes took it, but as he began to slide to the ground, his sleeve started to roll up, and he snatched his hand away from Bakari with a gasp, his other hand quickly coming up to hold his sleeve in place. As a result, Mahes tumbled down onto the sand below, falling in a heap.  
  
Bakari looked at him quizzically, but said nothing, and then he again reached out a hand, offering to help Mahes up. Eventually, and reluctantly, Mahes took it. Once he was standing he gave Bakari an annoyed look, snatching his hand out of his grasp.  
  
Bakari tried to ignore Mahes’s reaction, and instead pointed to the place he lived, hoping Mahes would be amenable. Bakari's home was a small cave, cozy and safe, carved into the face of a rock cliff. Its existence was almost invisible due to the vines covering the entrance. But the moment Mahes saw what Bakari was pointing to, he immediately balked.    
  
"You've got to be kidding me, right? I already had to live my whole life underground, and you come along and tell me you've got a better deal for me, and now you want me to live in a _cave_?"  
  
"It's different," said Bakari. "Look, the mouth of the cave faces outside and- honestly, why are you even complaining? This is still better than the hell I saved you from! I thought you just wanted to come with me to learn how to control your...demon- not to live in some perfect palace!"  
  
"Saved me?" spat Mahes. "You didn't save me, I chose to come with you because you said you'd help me!"  
  
"And I will," said Bakari, resting his right hand on his hip, "if you don't act like such a brat complaining about everything."  
  
"Who are you to order me around?" Mahes crossed his arms and stared at Bakari with obvious anger.  
  
"I'm the only one who can help you!" Bakari retorted. "Without me, you have no chance of controlling your demon, and who knows what damage it could do!"

At Bakari's words, Mahes's expression immediately became downcast, and Bakari softened in response. He knew Mahes already believed that part of him was evil, and he obviously feared that part of himself, probably hated himself for it a little, and Bakari hadn't meant to feed into that- he didn't want to do to Mahes what his father had done to him. He just didn't understand how someone who had led Mahes's life could have turned out to be so willful, so stubborn, so disagreeable, so _annoying_. But he realized he didn't want to stamp that spark out of him.

"But look, I _am_ going to help you control it, and I don't want you to be...unhappy? I'm not trying to be a jerk, but I can't accommodate every little thing you want. This is where I live, and it's home to me. You can sit in the mouth of the cave and see the stars, and you can sit there in the morning and watch the sunrise. Isn't that more than you ever had?"  
  
Mahes turned away, a crestfallen look on his face. "Shut up, don't act like you're doing me any favors."  
  
Bakari scoffed. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected you to be grateful."  
  
Mahes shook his head, flipping his blonde hair around. "What is it you think I should be grateful for?"  
  
"I just _told_ you-" Bakari started, but then he stopped himself. "Alright, fine, let's just go inside."  
  
Bakari began heading towards the mouth of the cave, and Mahes grudgingly conceded and followed Bakari through what seemed to him to be a terribly small, claustrophobic-looking entrance.  
  
But when Mahes got inside he realized that it did look a bit homey. There was a mat of reeds in the corner that must have served as a bed, and a fire pit towards the middle of the space, and food stores off to the side...but still, everything was in a small, confined space, bathed in shadows, the only light coming from the small doorway.  
  
Mahes cringed a bit at the sight. Bakari looked at him, tracing the angle of his gaze, seeing that he was looking wistfully outside.

"Is it too dark?" he asked.

Mahes didn't respond, but Bakari went to the middle of the living space and picked up his bow, inserted a piece of kindling and began to move the bow back and forth, spinning the stick faster and faster until a small spark caught. Then he cupped his hands and leaned down, his breath feeding the flames until they caught, creating a fire to light the area and banish at least some of the darkness.  
  
"I'd think you'd be used to small, dark, enclosed spaces by now," Bakari grumbled. Mahes shot him a vicious glare.  
  
"Alright, look- fire inside, and Ra outside, just outside the mouth of the cave, and you can go out there anytime you want, no one stopping you. Is that okay now?"  
  
Mahes looked down, momentarily ashamed at having been so demanding when Bakari was obviously trying to be kind to him, in his way. He really never _had_ had this much, but-

"Why are you even trying to treat me so well?" he suddenly asked. "Is it just because of the demon in you? What if it's- trying to connect with the demon in me-"  
  
"Stop it!" Bakari snapped. "I told you, I'm going to help you control- look, do you just want to start right now? Because it's obviously worrying you, and if you're that worried, maybe we need to start your training sooner rather than later."  
  
Mahes looked abashed for a moment, and then he nodded.  
  
Bakari stood up and led Mahes back outside the cave, into the sun, and he sat down on the sand, beckoning Mahes to sit next to him.  
  
"Alright, the first thing we're going to do is simple. We're just going to...well, think. Imagine a situation that would be stressful to you. A situation that would normally call your- uh, demon, to come out."  
  
"Like what?" asked Mahes.  
  
"Well, what makes you angry? What makes you afraid?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Suddenly, Bakari got an idea, and he reached out to grasp the sleeve of Mahes’s robe, starting to pull it up to expose his skin. The reaction was immediate- Mahes pulled his arm away sharply and at the same moment, his soul seemed to flare, and for just a second Bakari could see Mahes's ka, bright and fierce, ready to protect him- and then it was gone.  
  
And suddenly Mahes was trembling, backing away from Bakari, drawing in on himself, and a moment later he began to sob.  
  
"Hey, uh- I'm sorry, that was too much. It's the first time, you shouldn't-" Bakari’s eyes widened as he looked at Mahes. The thief almost panicked in the face of Mahes completely falling apart, but he quickly got a hold of himself. "Stop it! It's already gone! That was fine, it was-" he calmed his voice down, "fine. It didn't hurt me, see? It didn't hurt anyone. This is the kind of thing you need to learn, the kind of thing you have to get used to, so you can control it."  
  
Mahes looked up at him, his eyes still wet, but he no longer sobbed. Mahes narrowed his gaze at the tomb robber as he regained his composure. His expression became hard, emotionless. "If you fuck with my robes again, I'll kill you."

 

* * *

  
  
_He lay curled on his side. Mahes’s fingers tested the bandages wrapped around his chest and back. The marks still burned, as if the chisel never left his skin. Mahes shook on the floor. A noise poured from his mouth. A sob, at first, but it grew and rose up from his throat as a full scream._ _  
_ _  
_ _The child forced himself to his knees, pain jolted through him as he moved. Crawling to the door, Mahes slapped at the exit, shouting to be let out and getting no response. Mahes’s father always left him locked in the chamber for the night after trying to contain the demon._ _  
_ _  
_ _It was meant to be a time for Mahes to pray and repent, but he didn't want to pray. He wanted out. Mahes felt the room closing in around him. It felt like every single stone of the tomb lay on his chest, crushing his lungs. He needed out. Now. Now. Now. He couldn't breathe, and the shadows surrounded him._ _  
_ _  
_ _A voice in the back of his mind pleaded for him to calm down. He was upset, and it was when he was upset, when he panicked, that was when the demon often appeared, but the room was too small, and Mahes couldn't control himself._ _  
_ _  
_ _Mahes clawed at the door, splitting his nails, calling for help he knew would never come. He dropped back to the floor, exhausted, panting, fevered from aggravating his wounds._ _  
_ _  
_ _The child trembled, face pressed against the door, and dozed through strange, fevered dreams. In the morning, when his father finally opened the door, Mahes cried at the old man's feet, promising to be good, promising anything to escape the room and be allowed to, if not go outside, at least wander the entirety of the tomb._ _  
_ _  
_ _He loathed himself, for cowering, for begging. A part of Mahes didn't think it was fair to be punished for something he didn’t do on purpose, but he couldn’t stop the words pouring from his mouth._ _  
_ _  
_ _His father bent down and patted Mahes on the crown of his head. It was the only time he ever showed affection to his son, but it was a timid action, as if the man loathed to touch the golden hair that marked the child as inhuman._


	3. Chapter 3

Mahes set up his bedroll near the entrance of the cave. At least that way he could feel the breeze floating through the opening, and if he looked up, he could catch a few glimpses of starlight through the vines draping down over the entryway.   
  
Bakari snored at the other end of the cave. The sound reminded Mahes of the purr of a cat. He'd seen a cat- once. She'd snuck into the tomb one night, chasing vermin. Mahes had sat still and watched her sniff the shadows. After some time, she’d curled into his lap and purred.   
  
It was one of the happier nights of Mahes's youth. The warmth of her small body comforted him, made him feel less alone in the dark. But his father took her away. He was afraid Mahes would hurt her...because of the demon in him. Mahes fisted his hands into his sleeping roll. He loathed the creature inside of him, and the gold hair that forced him to be alone his whole life.   
  
Though, he supposed he wasn't alone anymore. He peered through the dim firelight at the thief sleeping across from him.   
  
A noise made Mahes jerk. It was a long wail of vowels that ended with an upturn of pitch that made Mahes's pulse quicken. He had no way of guessing the nature of the creature making the noise. It was neither cat, horse, nor human, and those were the only creatures Mahes had ever come into contact with. He sat up, listening. Bakari had already explained the buzz of the locusts to Mahes before he went to sleep, but the whining sound was unlike anything he had ever imagined. Then an unsettling thought occurred to him- could the sound be the wail of demons? Perhaps the ones that hadn’t found light-haired children as hosts screamed at night when people slept?   
  
He glanced at Bakari. The thief didn’t stir or flinch at the sound, but that didn't mean anything. Bakari seemed a little too comfortable with the knowledge that he harbored something evil within him, so the cries of other demons might not be enough to wake him from sleep.   
  
Gathering his courage, Mahes tiptoed outside. He shivered in the night, but the stars still managed to fascinate him despite the chill, and his fears. Mahes looked around but saw nothing. For a moment the night was quiet save the soft hum of locusts. Then another sharp cry pierced the air and Mahes backed up his steps until he was in the cave once more.   
  
He stared at Bakari again, longing for the peace that the tomb robber had, but the wails outside grated on Mahes's nerves and courage both. Eventually, he walked over to Bakari, sitting beside the thief.    
  
"Hyenas," Bakari muttered.   
  
Mahes twitched at the sound of his voice. "I thought you were sleeping?"   
  
Bakari snorted. "Trying to, you're moving about too much."     
  
"I was quiet," Mahes snapped.   
  
Bakari popped open a single eye. "Doesn't matter. I've had to learn to sleep lightly."   
  
A volley of yips turned Mahes's attention back to the entrance. "And those hy-hyenas? Are you sure they're not demons without a vessel?"   
  
"Oh fucking gods, Mahes. No demon talk while I'm trying to sleep."   
  
Mahes's jaw clenched. "You need to take demons more seriously, Bakari. Just because you think you can control yours doesn't mean it can't also control you."   
  
Bakari sat upright. His blanket slipped into his lap, revealing a delightful twist of stomach and chest muscles hidden beneath clay-colored skin.

"Mahes. Listen. They are hyenas. They're hunters. If you were alone and wounded in the desert they would be your death, but as long as we're here with the fire, we're fine. Build it up and sleep over here if you're concerned."   
  
It made sense, that the fire would protect them. Fire was powerful; it cleansed. Mahes looked down at his covered arms and shuddered.   
  
He ended up following Bakari's advice, feeding the flames until sweat made his robes cling to his body. Mahes hated the itching, damp feeling the cloth gave his skin, wished he could sleep nude like Bakari, but the robes needed to stay on. He couldn't let Bakari see what was underneath them.   
  
Lying near- though not too near- Bakari, Mahes felt himself relaxing. One could hardly blame him. True, he wanted his freedom. However, his world had gone from a mere tomb to endless horizons in the span it took Ra to ride his chariot across the sky and then back through the Duat again. Who could blame him for being a touch overwhelmed?   
  
Bakari was the closest thing to familiar that Mahes had, so it made sense that, even with their mats a respectable distance from each other, merely the presence of the thief beside him helped Mahes fall asleep.   


* * *

  
  
  
Bakari's hands were full, so he woke Mahes by using his foot to shake Mahes's shoulder.

"Hey, brat, wake up."  
  
He did wake up, swinging at the thief who avoided the punch by lifting his foot.

"You’re such an ass." Mahes stood up and straightened his robes.  
  
"An ass who brought breakfast. Want to eat it outside with me?"   
  
Bakari grinned when he saw Mahes's mouth drop slightly. The tomb keeper nodded his head and they went outside and sat on a ledge of rock, their feet dangling below them. He passed a jar of beer and a loaf of bread over to Mahes.   
  
He noticed Mahes made a face after biting into his bread, washing it down with beer. "What is it now?"   
  
Mahes twisted his mouth into a knot. "It has a taste."   
  
"Food tends to have a taste."   
  
"You know what I mean. It has an _off_ taste."   
  
"It's bread! Shut up and eat it!"   
  
"It has a...a..." Mahes struggled for the proper description. "A wild taste, like a plant taste."   
  
Bakari furrowed his brows. "Do you mean the coriander? What's wrong with you? You've never had coriander bread before?"   
  
Mahes gave him a lost stare, and Bakari couldn't help but feel bad. The old, crazy tomb keeper had no right to deny his own child the basic comforts. Bitterness and bile rose up Bakari's throat. It didn't seem right that such a horrible father got to live while...but it didn't matter. It was the way things were, and they both needed to deal with that. Bakari turned away.

"I don't care if you eat it or not, but don't expect anything else from me because that's all I have to give you."   
  
Mahes grumbled something under his breath, but took another bite, washing each mouthful down with a swallow of beer.   
  
Bakari sighed, trying to think of something to ease the mood. He pointed below them to the valley. "That's where we'll train."   
  
"You’re not touching me again."   
  
"No. I won’t. We'll try something a little different today."   
  
Mahes looked at Bakari, setting his empty jar down. "What?"   
  
He shrugged. "You’ll see. Ready?"   
  
Mahes nodded. He looked eager to start, so Bakari stood up and led him down the path. He pointed out two sunbirds hunting for insects to feed their young, knowing that animals were still a strange topic to the former tomb guardian.   
  
Bakari found a calm, shady area with plenty of room. He turned to Mahes, holding out his hands as if to calm a panicked horse. "Okay, last time was a little...rough. I promise I won't touch you this time. Instead, I thought maybe it'd be better if we start again by me showing you my, uh, demon." It annoyed Bakari that he couldn't just call it his ka, but Mahes would argue even if Bakari did explain the truth, so he didn’t bother.   
  
"Are you sure that’s safe?"   
  
"Yes. That's the point. I’ll show you, watch."   
  
Using his will, Bakari summoned Diabound. Mahes's mouth dropped open at the sight of him. The light from Diabound reflected in Mahes's blue-lotus colored eyes, making their color more intense. "Th-that’s... your...demon?"   
  
"His name is Diabound. It’s important to know their names."   
  
"He - it - it doesn't look...evil."   
  
Bakari raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever thought that maybe good and evil aren't such simple things?"   
  
Mahes crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his robes draped across his arms. "Did your demon tell you that?"   
  
This time, Bakari did roll his eyes. He recalled Diabound. "If you noticed, he wasn't trying to kill us."   
  
"But he looked dangerous enough."   
  
"Yes," Bakari agreed. "I would never use him without a reason." Bakari thought of the one person he did want to attack with Diabound. His nails curled into his palms and he clenched his hands into fists. Bakari snapped himself back to the present, exhaling to clear his mind.   
  
"You should try calling yours again. Think of a strong emotion. Anger works best for me."   
  
Mahes stared at the ground. "I don't know what to think about."   
  
"Nothing makes you mad?"   
  
Mahes shrugged.   
  
"Really? All those years locked underground and you're not even a little mad about that? You didn't even know what a horse was."   
  
"That wasn't anybody’s...fault. It had to be done."   
  
"Yeah?" Bakari crossed his arms over his chest, matching Mahes's body language. He'd promised not to touch him, but he never said he wouldn’t prod at the brat’s emotions. "Still. It’s not really fair, is it? Your whole life - your entire damn life - locked underground-"   
  
"Shut up."   
  
"You never saw the sun-"   
  
"Shut up."   
  
"And why? Because you have beautiful hair-"   
  
"I said shut up!" Mahes all but shrieked.   
  
And Bakari saw it, a flick of wings, a flash of a golden coat similar to Mahes's hair. The rock walls shook around them with a sound like thunder.   
  
Then it was gone, and Mahes leaned against the nearest rock wall, sliding down and hugging his knees.   
  
Bakari knelt in front of him, reaching out. He paused, holding his hand just above Mahes's shoulder. "Good. You did good. Better than last time, right? You just need to stop repressing him when he comes out."   
  
"I don't like it," Mahes muttered, voice angry.   
  
"I know, but that's why we're doing this," said Bakari. "It will get better."   
  
Without thinking further, Bakari dropped his hand down onto Mahes's shoulder. Mahes immediately jerked away. "I said don't touch me!" he screamed, instinctively shrinking away from the touch.   
  
"I didn't mean to-" Bakari started, immediately pulling his hand back as he realized what Mahes thought he was about to do. Mahes didn't seem to hear him. His face bore a look of distress and then suddenly he started retching, and a moment later he had thrown up, with most of the mess happening to land directly on Bakari's sandalled feet.   
  
"Ugh, what the hell!" yelled Bakari, jumping backwards and kicking futilely at the sand in an attempt to dislodge the sick from his feet. "I wasn't going to mess with your robes, I was just trying to be reassuring!"   
  
At Bakari's words, Mahes looked momentarily abashed, dropping his gaze to the ground. "Sorry, I just panicked for a minute there." Bakari sighed, giving Mahes a stern glare. "I feel better now. I'm sorry. Really," Mahes said, though he still felt a bit warm and queasy.   
  
"Alright, well, we've done enough training for today," said Bakari, seeming willing enough to move past what had happened, though he scoffed and continued to kick at the sand. "Let's try to do something more relaxing. I know a place I think you'll like- and besides, I need to deal with what you've done to my feet, and I can do that there." With that, Bakari set off to the east without looking back.   
  
Mahes didn't say a word, still embarrassed about what had happened; he merely followed Bakari as he led him through the desert, until they reached the place Bakari was taking him. His eyes widened when he saw it, a tiny gasp escaping from his throat.   
  
The blue pool of the oasis spread out before him, the light of Ra sparkling on its surface. Reeds grew along the edge of the water, and Mahes knew from his reading that these were the plants used to make papyrus, the very substance that created the pages from which he'd learned about the world. He looked on in awe, seeing a lotus flower or two floating on the surface of the water, and when he examined the scene more closely he saw burrows in the sand along the shore.   
  
"Fennec foxes," Bakari said blandly when he saw him looking.   
  
But it was daytime and the foxes weren't out yet, and the small rodents that would have been the foxes' prey scampered near their feet.   
  
One of the tiny rats ran up and stared at Mahes, rearing up on its hind legs to get a better look, its sides expanding and contracting as it breathed in a way that made it seem nervous and shy. It looked so soft and so adorable that Mahes impulsively knelt down and put out his hand, and when he did the animal climbed right up onto his wrist, its feet tickling his skin in a way that made him laugh. But when it tried to go up his sleeve, he had to capture its pulsing body in his fist and remove it. It looked at him with beady eyes and he stroked its head and smiled, and then set it down to let it go on with its rodent business. It ran off, and Mahes watched as its twitchy tail disappeared into the brush.   
  
Mahes chanced a look at Bakari and saw his own smile reflected in his face, though he immediately glanced away when he saw Mahes looking.   
  
Mahes averted his gaze as well, focusing on the scene before him again in time to see a bird take flight. He recognized it from pictures he'd seen; it was a sparrow, and though he knew it was considered a pest, it seemed no less glorious to him than the exalted swallows he'd read about.   
  
But his focus came back to the thief again when Bakari suddenly broke the silence.

"Hey, remember that bread you complained about?" he asked, his voice sounding a little gruff. "This stuff, here- cilantro- that's what it was seasoned with. That's where we get coriander."

Bakari motioned to some plants among the reeds, and Mahes looked on with interest. By that time, Bakari had removed his sandals, and was dipping his feet into the water, washing them.

"I suppose you won't, since you're weird about taking off your robes, but you really ought to get in with me," he said. "I don't know how else you expect to bathe. I suppose you don't know this, but out here, it's not a big deal to be naked. Slaves are naked most of the time. I don't get what your deal is."   
  
With that, Bakari suddenly dropped his robes, the cloth slipping down over his shoulders, revealing his muscled back, then his taut rear end and his sculpted legs, the fabric falling into a pool on the sand as Bakari slowly lowered himself into the water.   
  
Mahes looked, then tried not to look, then realized he wasn't feeling so well. Ra had been beating down on him for a while now, and suddenly he couldn't ignore the heat that seemed to radiate from every inch of his skin, and the sweat that was gathering underneath his heavy robes. The feeling of being sick returned, and he gagged and coughed and before he knew it he was involuntarily leaning forwards, right over the place where Bakari happened to be resting in the water, and he vomited directly into Bakari's hair.   
  
Mahes barely heard Bakari's cry of "fuck!" before his vision started to fade and his bones began to to feel weak, and he crumpled down onto the sand.   
  
The next thing he knew, cool water was being splashed in his face, and he saw Bakari hovering over him, water and sick dripping from his white hair.   
  
"Fucking hell, tell me next time you're not feeling well," Bakari said.   
  
"A'hm fine," Mahes tried to say.   
  
"You're not, you've got heat stroke...wearing those heavy robes out in the hot sun for so long..."   
  
Mahes briefly worried that Bakari would try to remove his robes, but he didn't; instead he felt cold water being poured over the fabric that covered him, and then something cool being pressed against his forehead. A moment later, he felt Bakari's presence leave him, and heard a splash from what seemed like a great distance away before his consciousness faded again.   
  
When he woke up, he was back in Bakari's cave. The first thing he heard was, "I don't know what's underneath those robes, but is it really worth dying for?" Mahes tensed reflectively, but Bakari said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to take them off. I'm just saying it's something to think about."   
  
Mahes relaxed again, and felt cool fabric being laid across his brow again. The last thought he had before darkness claimed him once more was that Bakari would take care of him, though he didn't know how he knew that, or why he should trust it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Mahes's scars are much more severe than Marik's. Nothing gets too graphic in the story, but I just wanted to put int a quick warning in case anyone needed the heads up before reading.

"Welcome back, beautiful."   
  
Mahes was slowly regaining consciousness, and in his still-woozy state he wasn't quite sure if he really heard what he thought he heard, or if it was just part of a dissipating dream, so he chose to ignore the comment.   
  
"Feeling better, brat?"   
  
Mahes heard _that_ , sure now that it was Bakari's voice speaking to him as he came further back to the waking world by the second, and he nodded slightly in response, while at the same time trying to arrange his face into a scowl in response to the insult.   
  
"I was planning to go to the market today," Bakari said, seeming to ignore whatever sour look Mahes had managed to give him. Mahes blinked, attempting to focus on what Bakari was trying to tell him. "But I suppose we had better wait until evening, when it's cooler," Bakari continued.   
  
"The market?" Mahes asked, still feeling somewhat dazed.   
  
"Do you know what a market is?"   
  
"Of course," Mahes scoffed, sitting up now. He felt a little dizzy and had to lay back down. "I just..."   
  
"Oh...are you scared?" Bakari's eyes, somehow gray and lavender and red at the same time, seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the cave.   
  
"No!" Mahes turned his face away in indignation.   
  
"Good, because it's not a big deal. We'll just be picking up some supplies...food, maybe some oils for bathing, that sort of thing."   
  
Mahes slowly turned back towards him. "So, when you say we're picking up these things...what exactly do you mean? How do you plan to acquire these items?"   
  
Bakari ignored the question. "You know, we should also get you some new robes. Maybe something in a lighter color."   
  
Mahes looked down at his ink-black robes, reflexively tugging on one sleeve a bit, pulling it further down over his wrist.

"These are the robes of a tomb guard. We need to blend in with the darkness, so as not to be seen by thieves... _you_ didn't see me, did you?"   
  
Bakari only smiled in response to the intended barb. "You're not a tomb guard anymore, and we're going to be outside a lot. You need something that will reflect Ra's heat, instead of absorbing it...unless you're keen on vomiting and passing out again."   
  
Mahes gave him a tart look and sat up again. "You didn't answer my question." When Bakari didn't respond, Mahes said, "Alright, maybe I'll get some robes in a pale purple, like those cilantro blossoms you showed me. That color looks nice, and it will be good for the heat." He paused. "But tell me now, how will we be getting this stuff?"   
  
Bakari shrugged. "Sometimes I steal it. Sometimes I buy it using treasure I've already stolen from tombs. It just depends, really, on how I feel that day...I sense the atmosphere of the place, use my instincts...if things aren't feeling quite right, I'll use money to buy what I need instead of lifting something."   
  
Mahes narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't steal."   
  
"I shouldn't do a lot things," Bakari said. "For example, coddling you, and your irrational desire to keep those robes on at the expense of your own safety. But here we are." When Mahes seemed about to turn away again, Bakari continued, "But I suppose I won't steal anything...this time. It'll be your first time at a market...there will be lots of people, more than you're used to...no sense in adding to your stress by nicking something from a vendor and making you worry about getting caught, or damning your immortal soul, or whatever it is you're worried about. After all, if you get scared and panic, that will only end up making trouble for me."   
  
"I'm not _scared_ ," Mahes said. There was venom in his voice, but he didn't look at Bakari. Instead he focused his eyes at a place over Bakari's shoulder, gazing at the shelf of strange bottles near the edge of the cave that reflected the firelight and sent flashes of gold and crimson bouncing off the stones. "What? Do you want me to be?"   
  
"Of course not. Like I said, it will just be a lot more people than you're used to. It wouldn't be weird if you felt uncomfortable. People can be dangerous."   
  
Mahes looked at him suspiciously. "You _are_ trying to scare me."   
  
"Not at all. If we run into trouble, it won't be a problem. Remember, I have my demon to protect me."   
  
Mahes blanched at this, and recoiled. "You shouldn't rely on-"   
  
"Mahes, let me tell you a story," Bakari interrupted. For a wonder, Mahes was silent for a moment, and waited for Bakari to continue. "Once, I was robbing a tomb." Bakari seemed to sense Mahes's objection, and held his hand up. "Now, I know you may think you're above that type of thing, that you're one of our great Pharaoh's servants and can't imagine stealing from him, or going against his laws. But my people were once servants of the Pharaoh as well. We built tombs for him- for the elite who served him. But in times of war, in times of conflict, when there was trouble in the kingdom...do you think it's the rich and powerful who suffer? The work dried up, and the Pharaoh no longer had the funds to pay us for our labors. Well, sure, he had enough to supply himself with gold and riches, and his court...there's always enough to supply the rich with far more than they could ever need, but no one questions the idea that there just isn't enough to help the servants and the workers when the kingdom requires more funds for war against another land."   
  
Mahes was looking at him skeptically, and Bakari sighed. "I know you've lived your whole life underground, and been indoctrinated with the idea of serving the Pharaoh, so you could never understand this. But trust me when I say my people didn't set out to be thieves- we didn't just randomly decide to be evil for the pure sake of being evil. Few people do, really. By the time I was born...we stole to survive. It was a way of life because it was the only way _to_ have a life, to steal from the tombs we built so we could have bread and beer."   
  
"So these noble people who only wanted to survive- where are they now?" Mahes asked. He tried to keep the sympathy out of his voice, and possibly failed- he himself had known that the orders of the Pharaoh did not always lead to the happiness of his subjects. But then, that was different- his family had been ordered to guard a tomb, a duty that was only fair and right, and it was no one's fault that he'd turned out to harbor a demon.   
  
In response, Bakari only shook his head sadly. "Maybe I'll tell you someday. But right now...as I said, I want to tell you this story. Once, I was robbing a tomb. I was young at the time, more inexperienced than I am now. I was skipping through the tomb, thinking I was avoiding all the traps, but I was arrogant-"   
  
"Oh, like you were when you tried to rob the tomb I guarded?"   
  
Bakari snorted. "There's a difference between confidence and arrogance. Back then, I was too sure of myself, when I wasn't experienced enough to be so, and I stepped on a stone that triggered a trap- I was quick enough to turn so that the arrow hit me in the shoulder instead of my heart, but still, I cried out in pain, and whether it was that or the sound of the trap executing that alerted the guards, I'll never know...either way, they came for me, and I believe you know that the penalty for tomb robbing is death. I remember it still...blood, and pain, and then they had me bound in chains, and I would have been beheaded without even a proper burial. Damned to Ammit's jaws simply because I had to steal to survive. But Diabound...my demon...I called him, and he broke my chains, and knocked the guards back. I don't even think he killed them-"   
  
"You don't _think_?"   
  
"Look, I don't know. It wasn't something I could be concerned with at the time. He knocked them away from me, and whether they were breathing or not, I was free, and I ran off- and that's why I'm here today. That's why _you're_ here today, instead of still-"   
  
But a wary look from Mahes stopped him. "I'm just saying- your demon is bound to you, and he will protect you. And if he doesn't...well, my demon will protect me, and you'll be with me, so...he'll protect both of us."   
  
"I don't need- or want- a demon to protect me," Mahes spat.   
  
"But you've got one," Bakari said. "Two, actually."   
  
Mahes sighed and closed his eyes, giving up on the argument for the moment, too weary to continue. "Wake me when it's time to leave."

 

* * *

  
  
They rode Minkah into town. It was still a thrill to Mahes to feel the wind tear at his hair as the horse sped across the desert. Of course, he could only enjoy the sensation for the first half of the trip. As they took a break to rest and water the horse, Mahes noticed Bakari securing his silvery-white hair beneath a flax-cloth hood, so Mahes did the same to his own hair, using the hood of his robe to conceal the cursed color.   
  
Bakari watched Mahes, clicking his tongue with disappointment. "It’s a shame, really, to hide your beauty with robes and a hood."   
  
Mahes scowled at the thief. He vaguely remembered Bakari calling him beautiful earlier. Was he trying to mock him? Mahes decided to ignore him, but he fumed inside at the thief’s jest. They mounted Minkah once again and rode the rest of the way into town.   
  
Bakari was right; the crowds did make Mahes nervous. He’d never imagined so many people crowded together in one place before. As a lonely child he’d dreamed about walking through a marketplace, but he couldn't help but feel like an outcast shrouded in black while everyone else walked around in shentis and loose-bound flax cloth.   
  
Bakari found a place to stable Minkah and then they went out into the streets. Mahes clung to Bakari more closely through the streets than he did when riding Minkah.   
  
He glanced over his shoulder at Mahes. "How are you doing?"   
  
"Fine," Mahes snapped, not wanting to seem weak, but not quite able to let go of Bakari's red cloak either.   
  
"Let me know if you see something you want."   
  
Bakari carried a basket to place their goods in. He traded ornate fans and gold bracelets for figs, almond oil, grain, leeks, garlic, and fish. It made Mahes's stomach turn, thinking about how the fans and jewelry belonged to the pharaohs and not the thief, but Mahes bit his tongue and allowed Bakari to go about his business.      
  
They found a merchant sitting on the ground and surrounded by baskets of light-weight, dyed cloth. Bakari looked at Mahes and Mahes realized he needed to pick out something for new robes. He scanned the linen- dark scarlet like the thief’s robes, spools dyed yellow with turmeric or deep blue with indigo- and it took him awhile to find something he wanted, but he finally saw a pale color similar to the coriander blossoms that grew near the river. Mahes pointed to the one he’d chosen.   
  
The merchant measured out the amount of cloth Mahes needed and placed an equivalent amount of gold debens on the scale to set the price. Mahes felt bad about the amount of pendants and bracelets Bakari had to use in order balance out the weight of the cloth. When finished, Mahes held the material close to his chest.   
  
"Next time we can trade my old robe for grain," Mahes said, feeling as if he needed to contribute somehow.   
  
Bakari snorted. "Don’t worry about it- that cloth was paid for by the pharaohs you spent your entire life serving- the least they can do is supply you your new clothes."   
  
"You can try to justify it, but it's wrong, Bakari."   
  
A look of bitter disgust overtook Bakari's face. He fought against the expression until his features settled back into something more neutral. "Perhaps we'll continue this conversation later. For now, let’s hurry up and finish shopping. It's bad enough we have to pick through what's left because we had to wait so long for you to recover."   
  
"Gods, you're an ass," Mahes muttered, even as he kept close in order to use Bakari as a shield against the crowds.   
  
Ra clung close to the horizon by the time they secured all their merchandise to Minkah’s back. They both walked beside the horse, following the road leading away from the city.   
  
"So? What did you think?" Bakari asked.   
  
"It was okay." Mahes shrugged. "I think I like the oasis better." Mahes gave Bakari a sheepish glance. "When I'm not throwing up, I mean."   
  
Bakari rolled his eyes. "If you'd wear something practical, you wouldn't have to worry."     
  
Mahes frowned, tugging at his sleeves. "That's not an option."   
  
"Whatever you say. It's your linen. You can wrap yourself up like a mummy with it for all I care."   
  
"Pfft, so glad to have your approval."     
  
They settled into a comfortable silence, their shadows growing longer as they walked. Mahes kept catching Bakari snatching little glances at him. He finally stared at the thief and asked, "What?"   
  
"What do you mean, what?"   
  
"You keep looking at me." Mahes frowned.   
  
Bakari only chuckled. "So what? Is that a problem?"   
  
"Not really, but why are you doing it?"   
  
"Isn't it obvious? Because you're beautiful."   
  
"Quit saying that."   
  
"Does it bother you? To hear me say it?"     
  
"It bothers me to hear an idiot that doesn't know what he's talking about say it." Mahes scowled.   
  
Bakari gave him a weary look. "You need to stop this nonsense."   
  
Mahes narrowed his eyes. "What nonsense?"   
  
"The nonsense where you're ashamed of yourself. Stop being ashamed of your body, and stop being ashamed of your ka."   
  
"You're stupid, so fucking stupid," Mahes growled, his jaw clenching as he tried to contain his anger. "You don't know anything about me, so don't assume- and who ever said I was ashamed of my ka?"   
  
"Ka, demon, whatever. Let’s just get back home. Unlike you, I didn't get to sleep all day."   
  
"How can you just confuse those things like it's no big difference? Do you have any idea-"   
  
They both stopped at the same time, noticing a group of men walking down the road from the opposite direction. Mahes checked his head covering, ensuring that it covered all his hair.   
  
"Dammit," Bakari swore under his breath.   
  
"Do you know them?"   
  
"No, but I know they’re thieves."   
  
"What do you want me to do?" Mahes asked.   
  
"Just follow my lead and act natural."     
  
Mahes nodded and they kept walking. Bakari turned off the road and started walking across the sand. For a moment, Mahes hoped that the men would stay on the road, but it wasn't too long before they appeared again- behind them instead of in front of them. Mahes only permitted himself to glance over his shoulder twice, then kept his head straight so it wasn't obvious that he was concerned.   
  
Once they were well away from the road, Bakari stopped and waited, petting Minkah’s neck to calm him down as the smell of strangers reached him.   
  
"Sir!" One of the men called out to Bakari. "Are you lost? You seem to have veered away from the road. You really shouldn't have done that. It's dangerous this close to nightfall."     
  
Bakari grinned, the darkening sunlight gilding his face. "That’s true. This desert is full of thieves."     
  
"You're right," the man said. "So how about you step away from your horse?"   
  
"How about you go back to the road where it's safe, so I don't have to hurt you?" Bakari unsheathed two daggers.   
  
The man pulled out his own knife. The five men behind them copied him.   
  
"Mahes," Bakari said, tossing one of his daggers.   
  
Mahes caught it. Minkah ran from the fight, but Bakari didn't call after him. The half-starved thieves were clumsy and slow, but they outnumbered them three to one. Mahes scored his blade across the eyes of one of the thieves- not enough to permanently blind the man, but enough to bloody his sight and remove him from the fight. Mahes found himself with his back close to Bakari's so neither of them could get attacked from behind.   
  
They circled, blocking the stabs and swings of their attackers’ blades. From the corner of his eye, Mahes saw a bronze knife aimed for Bakari's face. Mahes deflected the blade with his own dagger. Bakari grunted as thanks, but neither of them had time to process it as they continued their fight.   
  
Mahes pivoted on the heel of his sandaled foot to block a different attack meant for him. His robe caught between his shoe and the sand and Mahes found himself falling. He rolled to prevent injury and to put some distance between himself and his attackers, but two were on him before he hand a chance to get back on his feet. Reflexively, Mahes raised a sleeve-covered arm to cover his face as he waited for the shock of bronze tearing into his flesh.   
  
But, instead, white light burned across the sand as Diabound appeared. He hovered above Mahes, guarding him. The thieves stopped, mouths dropped wide, eyes huge and bulging. Diabound swiped them with his serpentine tail, knocking them all into the sand. The men shrieked, crawling on hands and knees to get away before scrambling to their feet and racing back towards the road.   
  
Alone again, Bakari laughed into the evening-kissed sky. "Fucking idiots! Did you see them run?" He spat into the sand. "Cowards."     
  
Mahes got to his feet, careful with his robes and dusting sand away from the dark cloth.   
  
Bakari rested a hand of Mahes's shoulder. "Are you okay?"   
  
Mahes moved Bakari's hand away from his body, but he did it slowly, so Bakari didn't think he was offended. "You saved my ass...thank you."   
  
Bakari chuckled, leaning close to Mahes's ear. "Don't thank me, beautiful. Thank Diabound."   
  
Mahes shied away from him, and Bakari backed off, leaving it for the moment as they walked back to the cave.   
  
Soon they were home, and they ate some of the food they'd gotten at the market, and Mahes worked on making his new robes before they slept, and they talked no more about the incidents of the day.   
  
The next morning, they awoke in the cave together, and began preparing to have their breakfast. Bakari gutted one of the fish they'd gotten at the market as Mahes watched.

"You know how to do this, right?" asked Bakari, glancing at Mahes with narrowed eyes as he sliced the fish down the middle and tore its spine out.  
  
"Of course I do," Mahes scoffed. "Do you think I had servants to cook for me in the tomb?" Bakari didn't respond, only handed the cleaned fish off to Mahes. Mahes grabbed it and immediately stabbed it through with a stick and put it on the fire, watching as the skin blackened and the delicious smell of cooked meat began to permeate the air. "Just because I've never been above ground before now doesn't mean I'm a naive kid. I know how to do stuff."   
  
"Well you sure seem naive about clothing." He eyed Mahes's robes, now pale purple instead of midnight black, but still covering every bit of his skin besides his hands, face and feet.   
  
"Stop whining, this is fine," Mahes said. He glanced down at his clothing, briefly admiring his own handiwork- Bakari may not have been impressed, but he was happy to have made his own robes out of the material they'd gotten, just as he'd always made his own garments when he was living in the tomb. "I never went outside before, so dark robes were fine- and useful for my situation- but now that I'm going outdoors and walking beneath Ra on a regular basis, these light robes will be better. Don't act like I don't have any sense."   
  
Bakari himself was wearing only a simple shenti, colored deep purple, and he said nothing in response to Mahes's defense of his overly-modest clothing, though Mahes could feel his judgemental eyes on him.   
  
After a while, Mahes took the fish off the fire, and ripped off a piece for himself, and then offered one to Bakari.   
  
Bakari reached out and took it, and though the cooked flesh hissed when it touched Bakari's fingers, Bakari showed no sign of pain and popped it into his mouth. Then, finally, he said something in response to Mahes's speech about his robes.

"Alright. Whatever...beautiful."   
  
Mahes jerked his hand back. "I told you to stop calling me that."   
  
"Why?" Bakari stared at him wide-eyed, with a mock-innocent look. And then he winked. "You are."   
  
Mahes scowled.   
  
"What? It's just the truth."   
  
"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I looked like underneath these robes," Mahes said before he could censor himself. He winced, looking away.   
  
"Well, you can't say something like that and just leave me in suspense, now you've got to tell me what's underneath your robes," Bakari said.   
  
Mahes shut his eyes and turned further away from Bakari. "Shut up...I didn't mean that- I mean-"   
  
"Mahes, tell me," Bakari said, his tone seeming almost gentle.  
  
"No."   
  
Bakari chuckled. "Then I guess I'm gonna keep saying you're beautiful."   
  
Mahes sighed. "It's none of your business, you know."   
  
"It is, since it's affecting your health, and that inconveniences me."   
  
"It's nothing," Mahes said, tugging at his sleeve briefly before looking up and realizing that Bakari was still staring at him. He dropped his hand.   
  
"What's under that sleeve, Mahes? Show me."   
  
Mahes gave him a poisonous look. After several moments of silence, he finally answered, not able to tolerate the tension any longer.   
  
"Scars, alright? Fucking scars."   
  
Bakari barked out a laugh. "Just scars? Is that all?" He pointed to the place under his right eye, the criss-cross wound that Mahes had seen on the first day he'd met Bakari. "I have scars, this place under my eye is probably gonna scar, it's not a problem. Scars just show you've lived. Is that all you're upset about?"   
  
"Look- you don't know anything-" he started. In a moment of pique at Bakari's nonchalant attitude about scars, he suddenly ripped up his sleeve, exposing the mottled burns that ruined his entire arm, and he then pulled the fabric back down just as quickly. He hadn't really wanted to show his skin to Bakari, even for a second, but in that moment almost anything seemed worth it just to get Bakari to shut up. “You have a demon, and you don't know anything about purification rituals?"  
  
Bakari's eyes were wide, his jaw hanging open, stunned by the brief sight of Mahes's arm, completely destroyed by old wounds, not an inch of skin left untouched. But he quickly snapped his mouth shut, and then said, curious, "Purification rituals?"   
  
Mahes looked at him with contempt. "How much can you know about demons, if you don't even know about the rituals used to stop them? Didn't you have parents who cared about you, to burn the demon out of you, to keep it suppressed?"   
  
Bakari understood then, understood more than he wanted to know, and tried to keep the pity out of his expression. "I didn't," he said. "My parents were murdered when I was young, along with everyone else in my village." He hadn't even meant to say it, but Mahes's vulnerability in that moment had apparently made him weak, and he'd blurted it out without thinking.   
  
“ _Oh_.” Mahes didn't seem as able to keep the pity out of his expression as Bakari had.   
  
"Everyone has problems," Bakari snapped. "We deal with them. That's called being an adult. So fucking wear normal clothing, like everyone else, so I don't have to carry you back to our cave with heatstroke again."   
  
"Gods, I literally just fucking told you, my robes are light colored now, how bad can they be? Do you think I want everyone to know I have a demon in me? To walk around the market and have people see that I've been through a purification ritual? Do you think that's a good idea, to attract that kind of attention while you're trying to _steal_ things?"   
  
"I didn't even steal anything," Bakari mumbled, though he didn't know why he was bothering to defend himself against the accusation, since he'd certainly stolen things from the market many times before, and would again.   
  
Mahes made a "hmph" sound and turned away.   
  
Bakari stared at him for a moment, and then said, "So, if you're just worried about people being suspicious...why don't you dress normally here in the cave? You'd be more comfortable."   
  
Mahes only gave him a cold look, and Bakari decided to drop the subject for the moment. He'd wait, and someday Mahes wouldn't be too scared to dress naturally around him. But today was not that day. He smiled and reached behind him to pull a plum from the pocket of the robes he'd been wearing earlier and held it out to Mahes. "Here you go, beautiful."   
  
"Shut up." Mahes gave him a tart look but took the plum and bit into it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, mild disclaimer for the description of Mahes's scars.

Bakari had a rare grin on his face. It continued to concern Mahes, how excited Bakari seemed to be about their demons, but Mahes had to admit, he felt a little triumphant at that moment. After a long, aggravating training session with Bakari, Mahes finally stood face-to-face with his demon. It didn't attack them, or run off in search of other victims; it simply stood there, gazing at Mahes as if curious.  
  
He had a lion’s body and a man’s head and two wings jutting from his golden back. He swished his tail. It looked like he waited for Mahes to do something, but he didn't know what to do with the demon now that he was there.  
  
"What’s his name?" Bakari asked.  
  
Mahes opened his mouth to say that he didn't know, but instead he said, "Shedu."  
  
Mahes blinked at the name. He was certain it was the correct one, but he wasn't sure how he knew. It had sprung up into Mahes's mouth, as if leaping up from his very soul.  
  
"He's amazing." Bakari reached out and touched the creature’s shoulder a moment before drawing his hand back to himself. "Glad you're on my side; I’d hate to have to fight something that strong- not to say that I couldn't- it’d just be a pain if I had to."  
  
"But if it goes out of control you could stop it, right?" Mahes turned to Bakari, his stomach in knots as he asked the question. "I never want to hurt anyone again with this..." Mahes clamped his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to hold in the vortex of emotion swirling in his mind.  
  
That’s how he’d managed to finally call the creature out. He wanted to see the thing that tormented him- he wanted to stare it in the face and hate it.  
  
But it was hard to hate it once he saw it. The creature wasn't dark, or menacing as Mahes had imagined. It was golden, beautiful, more beautiful than anything Mahes had ever seen, and Mahes wished that he was beautiful like that, like Bakari kept saying.  
  
But he wasn't, because he was ruined by purification rituals, and it was this thing’s fault.  
  
Mahes turned away, causing the creature to disappear.  
  
"Mahes? What are you doing? We finally made some progress!"  
  
"I'm done," Mahes said.  
  
"You spoiled brat, I'm your mentor. We're done when I say we're done. Not when you're bored."  
  
"I'm done!" Mahes turned to face Bakari as he screamed. "I'm sick of looking at that demon filth!"  
  
"Filth?" Bakari shouted back, his mouth open in shock. With a heavy exhale, Bakari's shoulders slumped low and his voice dropped to a near whisper. "Mahes, doesn't Shedu feel familiar? Like he’s part of you?"  
  
"I don't want anything to do with that thing! Don't call it by name, Bakari. Demons don’t deserve names."  
  
"His name is Shedu," Bakari growled, "accept that. He doesn't deserve your hatred. He’s strong and beautiful- just like you- and you shouldn’t-"  
  
Mahes didn’t allow Bakari to finish his speech. He lunged forward and started pounding his fists on Bakari's chest. The blows didn't have any power behind them; they were nothing more than rapid expressions of frustration. Instead of getting angry, Bakari grabbed Mahes in a quick, hard hug, letting go almost as fast has he’d scooped Mahes into his arms.  
  
"Let’s go home, Mahes."  
  
Mahes balled his hands into fists, but he nodded and followed Bakari up the path and back to their cave. Inside, Bakari handed Mahes a jar of beer.  
  
"Thanks." Mahes accepted the drink, sitting down near the entrance so he could look outside. "Is there any bread left?"  
  
"Just the coriander kind. I'll bake a plain loaf tomorrow."  
  
"It’s okay." Mahes offered a weak smile to Bakari as a sort of peace offering for hitting him earlier. "I can eat the coriander kind...the taste of coriander is growing on me." He snorted. "You put it in fucking everything you cook."  
  
"I like it," Bakari argued, "and it’s free. The gods don't provide much; I use what they do."    
  
"And steal everything else?"  
  
Bakari shrugged, smirking as if it’d been a compliment instead of chastisement. "It’s called being alive, you brat."  
  
Mahes frowned. "Stop calling me brat."  
  
"Oh, okay, beautiful."  
  
Mahes furrowed his brow. "You've seen that that's not true."  
  
Bakari looked him straight in the eye. He looked dangerous, though Mahes knew better than to be afraid. "I've seen nothing that makes you anything less than beautiful. In fact-" Bakari smirked. "The more I see, the more beautiful you become."  
  
Mahes grit his teeth. "All I wanted was a chunk of bread, not a godsdamned conversation."  
  
Bakari laughed. He grabbed a loaf of coriander bread and split it in half, sitting next to Mahes. They drank and ate in easy silence. Bakari never stopped looking at Mahes. Each time Mahes dared to glance over, there was Bakari staring. His eyes reminded Mahes of a pair of opals. He'd seen such gems once in a pendant around the neck of a long dead pharaoh. For all Bakari's talk of beauty, Mahes wondered if Bakari realized that he was the beautiful one between the two of them. That's why Mahes wished Bakari would stop calling him something he wasn't. True, the thief had scars, but it wasn't the same. It was nowhere near the same.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" Bakari asked.  
  
Mahes shook his head. He was thinking about beauty, and Bakari, and the treasure of dead kings, and how sometimes his scars still burned and he wondered if that was the purification magic working- keeping the demon trapped within- and he wondered why his stomach danced inside when Bakari looked at him like he was currently looking at him.  
  
"This bread is actually good. I guess you've gotten better at cooking since I first arrived."  
  
Bakari snorted, laughing. "It's the same as always. You're just less fussy about trying new things now."

 

* * *

  
  
Instead of beer with their dinner as usual, Bakari broke the seal to a jar of wine he’d been saving. "We should celebrate. You can properly summon your-" he didn't want to use the word demon, but knew better than to say ka again, "power. That's the first step to controlling it."  
  
Mahes frowned. "You stole that wine, didn't you?"  
  
Bakari shrugged, checking the fish and leeks roasting in the fire to see if they were ready to eat.  
  
"More importantly," Mahes continued, "you stole that wine from a tomb, didn't you? Like the one I used to guard."  
  
"Mahes, how many times do we have to go over this? Yes, I stole it from a tomb, and so what? Why should only the rich be able to drink the wine when it’s the poor that grows the grapes?"  
  
"That doesn't change that stealing is wrong, Bakari."  
  
"And that doesn't excuse the fact that a few men taking advantage of many is also wrong. The priests preach about Ma’at and balance and order, but when it comes down to it, they never want to live by their words, and I’d rather be damned than let the spirits of pharaohs drink wine when my people have nothing but ash." Bakari set the jar down, clenching his hands into fists and staring at them. "Ash, Mahes, ash. It is their food and their drink. They built pyramids for the pharaohs and were paid for their labor with starvation, desperation, and betrayal."  
  
Mahes took their supper from the fire, not knowing what to say. He handed a reed mat topped with fish and leeks to Bakari and shrugged. "Well, it's not like we can sneak back into the tomb and return it, right? Might as well drink it."  
  
Bakari huffed and took his food outside to eat near the cave entrance. Mahes followed him, bringing the wine. He set the jar between them, taking a bit of grilled leek.

"Bakari?"  
  
"What?" he asked, a little sullen, but Mahes didn't think it was so much his fault as it was whatever Bakarki was thinking about.  
  
"What did you mean? When you said all they had was ash?"  
  
Bakari didn't answer. He ate, and Mahes ate as well, waiting to see if Bakari would answer his question. After his fish, Bakari took a sip of wine. "I told you they were murdered."  
  
"Yes. I remember."  
  
"More specifically, they were burned."  
  
The breath struggled in Mahes's airway. He drank from their shared jar, trying to wash the feeling out of his throat. He knew what it was like...to be burned. He knew the pain well. Thinking about it, about burning, made every scar on his body ache, as if he were back in the tomb, with his father, with bronze chisels and old, old, prayers.  
  
Mahes reached out, grabbing Bakari's leg above the knee. He squeezed, to comfort Bakari, to comfort himself. Fire was a pain they shared.  
  
"I'm fine," Bakari muttered.  
  
But Mahes didn't want to let go. His limbs and torso still burned with the phantom pain. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a muted sound escaped. He felt Bakari's coarse palm cupping the side of his cheek and turning his head.  
  
"Hey, are you okay?"  
  
Mahes lost focus because of the warm feeling of Bakari's hand on his cheek. The pain of fire faded, replaced by the gentle sensation of Bakari's touch. Mahes pulled away, slowly, and lifted up the jar of wine.

"You know what? Fuck it. You said we were going to celebrate, right? I'm sure the Pharaoh you stole this from won’t miss a single jar."  
  
He tilted his head back, allowing the wine to warm him from the inside out until his scars lost all memory of their hurt.  
  
"Slow down, that's stronger than beer."  
  
Mahes pressed the jar into Bakari's hands. "What? Now you're going to get all moral on me? Stealing is okay but getting drunk is wrong?"  
  
"Doesn't bother me." Bakari grinned. "Just don't puke on me- again- if you get too drunk." He took a drink and passed the jar.  
  
"Hey, that wasn't my fault. I didn't know I'd get heat-sick." He laughed, feeling the wine swim in his head. "Looking back, that was pretty funny."  
  
Bakari chuckled. "Maybe a little- not at the time, though."  
  
Mahes took another drink, scooting closer as he passed the jar back. "You really do do a lot for me."  
  
Bakari smirked. "Maybe one day you'll be able to help me in return."  
  
"Pfft, like help you rob a tomb?"  
  
Bakari shrugged a single shoulder. "You knew what I was when you left with me."  
  
"You knew what I was when you took me away."  
  
"Yeah, I did." Bakari nodded. "A light-hair, just like me."  
  
Mahes leaned against Bakari's arm, not minding the light contact as long as his robes stayed in place and covered all his scars. Mahes's belly danced, and it had nothing to do with the wine and everything to do with leaning against Bakari. Mahes laughed.

"Those thieves looked so cowardly when Diabound chased them away after our first market trip."  
  
"I know what your father raised you to believe, but...Diabound isn't evil."  
  
"Maybe not," Mahes said, neither agreeing nor arguing.  
  
Bakari stared at the jar of wine, handing the last swig to Mahes. "I don't think Shedu is either."  
  
Mahes downed the last drink and sighed. "Maybe not...I don't know."

 

* * *

  
  
"So, what are we going to do today?" asked Mahes. It had only been a day since their last training session, when Mahes had finally managed to call forth his demon for the first time, and he was hoping they could take a bit of a break today. He wasn't keen to immediately jump into another mentally trying encounter with his demon, even if he knew it would have to happen eventually.    
  
Bakari seemed to read his mind. "I thought we'd go down to the oasis. You like that place, right? We should get some water, and besides, it's time for me to bathe."  
  
Bakari raised his eyebrows, and Mahes felt like he was trying to imply something. He narrowed his eyes. "Are you expecting me to bathe there too?"  
  
"Out here, most people bathe with others. And I know about your scars now, so there's no big secret left to hide."  
  
"I'm fine bathing with oil in private, thanks."  
  
Bakari rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself. Are you going to come, though? I could use someone to help me carry the water back."  
  
Mahes shrugged. "I suppose."  
  
They set off, then, carrying a couple pots to be filled with water. It wasn't long before they reached their destination, and Mahes couldn't help but be amazed again at the lush plant life and the tiny flitting animals that surrounded the sparkling pool of water. But he was soon distracted from those wondrous sights by a different, no less fascinating sight- only moments after they arrived, Bakari shed his robe and began stepping into the water. Mahes took in his dark, muscled form and began feeling a little woozy- and this time, he couldn't tell himself it was just because of the heat. He hadn't really had a problem with that since he'd made his new, lighter robes. He looked away quickly, feeling his face heating, and hoping that if Bakari noticed the redness in his cheeks, he'd think it was just because of the warmth of Ra.  
  
When he looked back, he saw that Bakari had found a small sand bar to sit on, and was scooping up water with his hands and rubbing it over his skin, fingers tracing the curves of his bronzed body.

"You really should come in," Bakari said, glancing back towards Mahes. "It's nice and cool."  
  
"No!" Mahes snapped, sounding more irritable than he'd meant to.  
  
"So you're just going to stand there and watch me? That's kind of weird."  
  
Mahes felt his blush deepening at Bakari's words.  
  
"Come on, beautiful. What are you really afraid of?"  
  
"Gods damn it! Stop calling me that! You don't know!"  
  
Bakari turned his body around fully to face Mahes, leaning over the edge of the water and propping his arms up on the shore. He cocked his head. "You think so? Prove me wrong, then. If you really believe I'll think you're ugly once I see all of your scars, then show me. If you're right, then you'll never have to hear me call you beautiful again."  
  
"Fucking hell." Then Mahes shocked Bakari by actually beginning to undo his robes.  
  
"Hey- I was giving you a hard time. You know you don't have to if you really don't want to-"  
  
"No! You wanted to see this, so you will! You're going to understand what I really am! And you're going to feel stupid for-" Mahes broke off, and seconds later his robes were in a heap by his feet, every bit of his skin exposed to the outside air for the first time. He was so heated he barely noticed the comparative pleasantness of the light wind soughing against his skin in place of the chafing weight of his robes as he stood naked before Bakari, his eyes daring him to take back his words.  
  
Bakari looked at him and gasped. He'd seen Mahes's arm before, how it was completely covered in burns, but he hadn't truly expected that every inch of Mahes's body- every single bit of skin he could see- would be twisted and marred by deep, discolored wounds. The only places left untouched were his hands, face, and feet. Everywhere else was a mass of ruined flesh, white and brown and pink mottling together in pits and peaks, the skin almost looking as if it were still melting, just as it must have been when the burns were originally inflicted. It was amazing.  
  
Bakari rose up out of the water and gently took Mahes's hand. "Well? Come on in. You've never even felt water on your skin before, have you? It will feel nice."  
  
Mahes's eyes widened, his mouth opening a bit, but he let Bakari lead him into the pool. It _did_ feel nice- as he sunk down into the clear water, his skin felt soothed and cooled in a way it never had before, and he couldn't help sighing with the relief of it. He jumped a little in surprise when he suddenly felt Bakari's hand rubbing the refreshing liquid over his bicep. He was so taken aback by the fact that Bakari wasn't repelled by the mere thought of touching his disgusting skin that he barely noticed as Bakari maneuvered him so that he was sitting on the small hill of sand under the water. He dug his toes down into the cold, sandy bottom of the oasis as the water gently lapped against his body, chilling and invigorating him.    
  
Then, in one quick motion, Bakari moved to straddle his lap, continuing to rub his cool, wet hands over Mahes's body. The move had been sudden, but Bakari's motions were careful; his body floated a bit above Mahes, so as not to put any weight on him, and the touch of his palms was light and gentle, nothing that would be abrasive against his skin.    
  
Mahes held his breath. He raised his face to see that Bakari was gazing at him with half-lidded eyes. Then Bakari's hands sunk down under the water, and though his old wounds caused the area to be too numb to feel much, he understood that Bakari's fingers were grazing against his sides. His entire body began to tingle, and a tight, unfamiliar feeling began to grow in his chest and groin.  
  
Bakari glanced down. " _Oh._ " He slipped a hand between Mahes's legs, but didn't get any further reaction. "Can you feel this?"  
  
Mahes blushed, realizing that something was happening, but not really understanding what. "Not...really? There's not much feeling there." In some places, his scars were painful, easily irritated; in other areas, the burns seemed to have gone deep enough to completely destroy his nerves and prevent him from feeling anything at all.  
  
Bakari was consternated for a moment, but then his face lit up as he got an idea. He gently pulled back Mahes's foreskin, then looked down and nodded in satisfaction. The wavering pool distorted the image, so he couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw there were no scars underneath. There was one way to find out.

He ran his thumb slowly all around the head of Mahes's half-formed erection, and to his delight got exactly the reaction he was hoping for: at his touch, Mahes immediately closed his eyes and threw his head back, calling out, "Oh- oh gods, oh gods-"  
  
Bakari smiled and made a fist to fully enclose the tip, and then stroked down. Instantly, Mahes was fully hard. "Does this feel good?"  
  
"Yes, _yes_!"  
  
He stroked back down, and then up again, starting to establish a rhythm. "Do you want me to stop?"  
  
"No, don't- don't stop-" Mahes could barely breathe. He reached behind him for something to grab onto and dug his fingers into the greenery along the shore, grasping at it until the plants tore in his hands.  
  
Bakari continued to slide his hand up and down, listening to the helpless pants and sighs coming from Mahes's parted lips, and it wasn't even a minute before he felt the pulsing of Mahes's release.  
  
Afterwards, Mahes looked at Bakari with hooded eyes full of clouded afterglow, and Bakari kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth. "Was that good, beautiful?"  
  
"Yes," Mahes sighed. "Oh, gods, what- what did you do to me?" Mahes had never experienced any truly good sensation on his skin, not before a few minutes prior when he'd felt the cold water soothing his burns, and what Bakari had just done to him was far beyond anything he ever could have imagined.  
  
A look of slight confusion and surprise passed over Bakari's face, but was quickly gone. "You really don't know? You've never...by yourself?" He paused, looking away. "Well, um...I'll explain later. For now, we should probably head back."  
  
Mahes nodded slowly. His legs shook as he stood up, and he let Bakari help him out of the water. They collected the pots they'd brought and filled them with water, and as they walked back to the cave, Mahes felt much easier with Bakari than he had before. He reasoned that it was because Bakari hadn't been disgusted with his scars as he'd expected him to be- but he knew something else had transpired. He just couldn't understand quite what it meant.  
  
That night, he felt the urge to sleep closer to Bakari, despite the fire being near and warm, so he laid his sleeping mat down only inches from Bakari's, almost close enough to feel his breath. Bakari didn't protest.


	6. Chapter 6

They ate cheese and fruit for dinner, each lying on either side of the small fire in the middle of their cave. Mahes had never had cheese before, but he took to it immediately.

“Like it?” Bakari asked with a suspicious smirk on his face.

“Yes,” Mahes answered, although he knew Bakari was about to say something that would irritate him.

“You do realize cheese is expensive, right? Only the rich can afford it.” Bakari let out a dreamy, overdramatic sigh. “It's a good thing you're with me and I'm a thief. A good thief can steal anything, no matter its cost.”

Mahes scowled at the thief, hating that he didn't have a good counter argument.

“If it goes against your morals that much you're welcomed to have nothing but plain bread and water for dinner," Bakari said.

Mahes sighed, popping another piece of cheese into his mouth. It was delicious, and he wasn't pious enough to limit himself to bread and oasis water when the figs and cheese on his plate tasted so amazing.

“The poor shouldn't have to subsist on bread and beer alone just so that the pharaoh and his court can continue to have luxuries in the afterlife.”

“Yes, yes, you've made your point.” Mahes narrowed his eyes and adjusted the sleeves on his robe.   
  
Bakari grinned, but when they were done eating, Bakari steeled himself, realizing it was time for them to discuss what had happened the day before.

“So..." he started. "I promised we'd talk about what happened yesterday."  
  
Mahes just nodded. 

“So, just to make sure...you really don't have any idea what that was yesterday? Like, at all?”

Mahes shook his head, frowning a bit. “I told you I didn't.”  
  
"Alright, well..." Bakari seemed to have trouble getting started. He reached down and clutched the edge of his shenti, twisting the fabric between his fingers. Finally, he said, "When I touched you...it felt good, right?"   
  
“Yeah,” Mahes said in a small voice, smiling a little now at the memory.   
  
Somewhat encouraged, Bakari went on. "Well, have you ever noticed that part of you...the part I touched...getting hard?"   
  
"I guess, sometimes?" Mahes said. Bakari looked at him with a question in his eyes, and Mahes tried to elaborate. "When that happened, I didn't really know why, so I'd always just ignore it, and it would go away after a while."   
  
"Well, when it gets hard like that..." Bakari glanced away. He hated this. "It, uh...feels good to touch it. And if you touch it for long enough you get, ah...sort of a release...and that feels even better."   
  
"I kind of noticed that," said Mahes, unable to help laughing a bit.   
  
Bakari laughed as well, reflexively, a bit of the tension in his mind dissipating as he thought of how intensely Mahes had reacted to his touch.

Then he sobered and said, "So you've really never touched yourself like that before?"  
  
"No, it never occurred to me to do anything like that." Mahes thought for a moment, his eyes briefly flicking up to the ceiling of their cave before coming back to rest on Bakari. "So you mean you touch yourself that way?"   
  
"Um, yeah, sometimes," Bakari said several seconds later, blushing at the admission for reasons Mahes couldn't understand. There was another pause, but before Mahes could say anything else, Bakari said, "Even the gods do these things, I'm surprised you have no idea." Then Bakari rushed on. "I thought you said you'd read about the outside world?"   
  
"I read things that related to my duties. I knew what I needed to know. Sometimes as a gift, Father gave me scrolls dealing with animals and plants, since I was always fascinated by them...but I've never heard of the things you're talking about."

“Really? Nothing? Not even the stories about Set and Horus? Or how Thoth created a magical replacement of that part for Osiris so that Isis could- and didn't you ever see pictures of Min?”

“I told you, no. My father only gave me stories about the gods and outside world that would prove useful to my duties.” Mahes paused again, and then seemed to think of something and asked, "So wait, why did you touch _me_ that way?"   
  
Bakari looked away, seeming reluctant to answer. Mahes stared at him with wide, curious eyes, and finally, Bakari said, "Well, sometimes, when two people...er, trust each other...they want to touch each other like that, since it feels good."   
  
"But why?" Mahes asked, obviously still confused about the situation. "Why not just touch yourself, like you said you do?"   
  
Bakari squirmed, and considered not answering. Then, finally, he said, "Well, I think...it feels better if someone else does it for you."   
  
"Oh, so other people have touched you there?" Mahes asked.   
  
Bakari winced. "No, I don't really interact with other people enough for anything like that to happen...I never talk to anyone unless they're attacking me, or I'm attacking them."   
  
"So how do you know it feels better for someone else to do it?"   
  
"It's just common sense that it feels better for someone else to touch you than to do it yourself," Bakari said. Mahes gave him a blank look, and a more thorough explanation seemed to be needed, so Bakari thought for a moment about how he would express this. Mahes was the first person he'd touched in any way whatsoever in a very, very long time, and he suspected his companion was in a similar situation as far as having had anyone else touch him recently, or possibly ever, so it wasn't as if either of them had much else to compare it to. He thought of the moment he'd first felt the desire to get physically close to Mahes and to touch his skin, and finally, he said, "I mean...when I started washing you, rubbing my hands over your arms, and your stomach...that felt better than washing yourself, right?"   
  
"Well...yeah," Mahes admitted, his eyes suddenly downcast. "I'm not used to people touching me in a....nice way. Or at all. But I...liked you doing it."   
  
Bakari nodded, his assumptions confirmed. "But it wouldn't be okay if just anyone touched you?" he questioned.  
  
"Of course not!" said Mahes, looking almost disgusted.   
  
"But when I got close to you like that...you got hard."   
  
"Oh," Mahes said, comprehension starting to dawn on his face. "So that's what makes it gets hard?"   
  
"Well, sometimes it gets hard for no reason...and sometimes it gets hard because you see someone and you...like the way they look." Mahes's eyes widened a bit as something seemed to click in his mind, and Bakari smiled to himself as he recognized what Mahes's expression meant. "And sometimes it's because you're near the kind of person who you want to touch you in that way."   
  
"Oh," Mahes said again. "So that's why _you_ touched _me_?" Bakari nodded and Mahes paused to think for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration as he tried to put it all together. "So...I got hard when you were close to me, because you're not just anyone...and since we trust each other, you decided to touch me like that so I would feel good?"   
  
Bakari nodded again, more emphatic this time, a look of relief spreading over his face as he realized Mahes understood, and he wouldn't have to continue this conversation further. "Exactly."   
  
"Ah...I understand, then." Mahes looked away, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he thought over what he and Bakari had done together, and what it meant.

"Are you sorry I did it?"   
  
"No..." Mahes said, and he shifted, uncomfortable, glancing sidelong at Bakari as images from the previous day at the oasis played in his mind.

Bakari realized what was happening, and his eyes widened for a moment before they fell into a half lidded gaze, and he said, "Do you want me to do it again?"   
  
"I...yes."   
  
Bakari's eyes closed and he said, "Alright, come here."   
  
Mahes got up and started to move to Bakari's side of the cave, but Bakari said, "You need to take your robes off."     
  
Mahes looked reluctant for a moment, until Bakari said, "I've already seen it, remember?" Then Mahes, looking defiant, dropped his robes, and moved to lay down next to Bakari on his mat. But he winced the moment his skin touched the rough surface of the weaved reeds.   
  
"Does this hurt you?" Bakari asked. "Lay your robes down over the mat, that might help."   
  
Mahes did, spreading his robes over the mat and then lying next to Bakari.   
  
Bakari looked, really looked for the first time at the entirety of Mahes's naked body, finally able to see everything of Mahes up close without water distorting the image. He lowered his head down between Mahes's legs to get a closer look, and saw the mottled scars on his private parts. Then he got an idea and leaned in to draw his tongue along a thin line of unmarred skin among the ruinous scars on his shaft, and Mahes sucked in breath in a way that made Bakari's heart skip a beat.   
  
Bakari did it again, and Mahes gasped, so Bakari continued, his tongue tracing along the the few narrow paths of undamaged flesh, and when he heard the way Mahes's breath stuttered every time he licked him, he was encouraged to go on, starting to lap incessantly at the area until Mahes began to squeal with pleasure and frustration, his hips jutting up to meet Bakari's mouth.   
  
By that time, Mahes was hard enough that his undamaged tip was exposed, and when Bakari moved up to swirl his tongue around it, Mahes absolutely screamed, his ecstasy so apparent that Bakari knew moving down to his shaft again would be an exquisite torture. So Bakari did just that, putting his hands on Mahes's hips to hold him in place as he continued teasing him with his tongue, and Mahes bucked against his grip.   
  
"Ba-ka-ri-" Mahes panted.   
  
"What do you want?" Bakari asked. But Mahes didn't know. Bakari chuckled as he realized he could do this indefinitely, and Mahes wouldn't even know what to ask for. Mahes whined when Bakari sucked on his tip for several seconds before stopping and laving his shaft again, his body twitching underneath Bakari's hands.   
  
Bakari spent several more moments slowly licking every sensitive part of Mahes he could find as he held him firmly against the ground, Mahes squirming and obviously desperate underneath him, and then finally he took mercy and brought Mahes entirely into his mouth. The instant he did, Mahes moaned with abandon, and Bakari was surprised at the strength of the jolt that went through his own body when, just seconds later, Mahes released into his mouth.

The intensity of the moment made Bakari immediately roll over and turn away as soon as he was done swallowing what Mahes had given him- though he couldn't help closing his eyes as he listened to the heaviness of Mahes's breathing in the aftermath.  
  
Moments later, Bakari felt fingers trailing gently through his hair. "I...thanks." Mahes was still a little breathless.   
  
Bakari grunted in response. Seconds passed.   
  
"So, do you..." Mahes swallowed. "You said you've never had anyone to...t-touch you..."   
  
Bakari hated the fact that his cheeks were heating up at the question he knew Mahes was trying to ask. "Sure, if you really want to."   
  
"Ah...alright." Mahes tentatively reached a hand around Bakari's waist. Then his fingers dipped down between Bakari's legs, and he found his companion already very hard.   
  
Bakari's eyes closed again, and his body stiffened as he tried to refrain from reacting too much to Mahes's touch. He struggled to keep his air of nonchalance, but when Mahes began clumsily stroking him, his breath caught, and he mentally scolded himself, telling himself that he shouldn't fall apart at someone touching him like this; he wasn't like Mahes, a pathetic kid who had been locked up his entire life and didn't know anything, who had never even touched himself, let alone had anyone else do it- probably never even gotten a hug before, never mind a more intimate touch- but then Mahes drew him closer, spooning him from behind, and as his hand began to slip a little more smoothly over Bakari's erection, Bakari shuddered involuntarily, and stopped thinking.   
  
Bakari somehow let himself get lost, moaning and writhing against Mahes’s chest. It reminded Bakari of riding a horse, how he always seemed to merge with the creature, the slightest cues from him expressing to the horse what direction to go. Like that, the slightest shift in his hips told Mahes to speed up or slow down.

But this…this was far deeper than steering a horse. It was more intense and infinitely more intimate. A strangled moan escaped him and he started to buck into Mahes's fist. He wasn't aware of anything again until he was coming in Mahes's hand an unknown time later. He shook afterwards, and tried desperately to get a hold of himself.

When he did, he flipped back over to face Mahes, to show him how unaffected he was, his expression carefully blank. "Thanks."  
  
"Er...yeah. Okay." Mahes looked at his own hand, covered in sticky goop, with a mixture of confusion and disgust.   
  
Bakari laughed at the sight, the tension he'd felt broken. "Yeah, that happens."   
  
Mahes gave him a wry smile before getting up to clean his hand off. When he was done, he stood at the edge of Bakari's sleeping mat, shifting on his feet.   
  
"Lay here if you want," Bakari said, voice gruff.   
  
Mahes did, lying so near that Bakari instinctively pulled him close before he could think, and Mahes winced.   
  
"Your scars..." Bakari said, drawing back as he realized. Mahes nodded, and Bakari sighed and separated their bodies.   
  
"But..." Mahes started. "I was just pressed up against you, and it was fine..."   
  
Bakari dipped his head. "You were...well, see, when we're...it's going to feel different for you, when you're in a certain state, right after...never mind."

Mahes looked confused, but Bakari simply laid his forehead against Mahes's and closed his eyes, reaching a hand out to intertwine his fingers with Mahes's.

“We can do this instead.”

Mahes opened his mouth to say something else, but then thought better of it, and finally he closed his eyes as well, and asked no more questions for the night. 

* * *

  
  
They both stood in the valley with Diabound and Shedu summoned. Mahes had made astounding progress in the last few days with his ka. Every time Shedu followed a command, Mahes’s eyes lit up. To him, controlling his ka meant keeping what he thought was a demon within him contained, and as much as Bakari wanted to correct Mahes, he knew it would be better to wait a little longer before he explained the difference between Shedu and a real demon.   
  
Their ka were supposed to be sparring, which would make Diabound and Shedu both stronger even as it helped Mahes learn to fine tune his control over his ka, but Diabound kept giving Shedu playful head butts or flicks of his tail- little, affectionate gestures instead of proper attacks. Shedu was no better, smacking Diabound with his wings, or pawing at the huge, white ka without his claws. It pissed Bakari off because he understood what it meant- that he was closer to Mahes than he'd ever intended on being.   
  
It was hard to stay cantankerous, however, when he looked at Mahes.   
  
Mahes stood in a patch of sunlight, hair glittering gold. His lavender colored eyes were wide with delight as he watched Shedu and Diabound play. The smile on his face was broad and genuine and Bakari had to suppress his own smile as he stood there and watched Mahes, thinking again and again that Mahes was beautiful.   
  
Mahes caught Bakari staring again, but this time, instead of looking away, Mahes’s smile grew a little wider.

"Look, Bakari, it's almost like they're friends..." Mahes frowned. "But that can't be right, can it? Demons can't be friends with others."  
  
"You're still looking at everything through a veil of good and evil that doesn't exist. They're the same as each other, why shouldn't they..." Bakari paused, not wanting to say _be_ _friends_. "Why shouldn't they trust each other?"   
  
Mahes chuckled. "Sort of like us?"   
  
Bakari felt his cheeks heat up. Mahes didn't realize how accurate his statement was, and it had to stop. Bakari didn't have time to babysit this brat any longer. He took Mahes away from the tomb because he thought Mahes could be useful, and it was time Mahes started paying Bakari back for the food he ate every day.   
  
"I think you’re ready now."   
  
"Ready for what?" Mahes chuckled as Shedu tackled Diabound.   
  
The two ka rolled in the dirt, Shedu pinning Diabound to the ground. Bakari almost screamed. He knew damn well that Diabound could have dodged the attack, or pushed Shedu away, but there his ka lay, a giant white simpleton, letting a less trained ka overtake him. Bakari called Diabound back to his own consciousness, making the ka disappear.   
  
"Why’d you do that, Bakari? They were having fun."   
  
"They weren't supposed to be having fun. They were supposed to be training, and we're the same. It’s time we stop lounging around and getting fat. If you’re going to stay here you have to work."   
  
"I work! I help you carry water, help cook, sweep extra dirt out of the cave, help groom and feed Minkah. Don't act like I sleep all day and do nothing."   
  
"That’s easy work that anyone could do," Bakari snorted, although things _were_ easier with Mahes there to help. "I’m talking about difficult work that takes skill, something to help pay for fish and bread- it’s time you helped me rob a tomb."   
  
All Mahes’s former joy from watching their ka evaporated from his face, leaving only shock. "I never agreed to that."   
  
"Why else would I have rescued you from that tomb I found you in?"   
  
"To help me!" Mahes yelled. "You said you wanted to help because you sympathized with me- because we're both light-hairs." Mahes spun around and stormed up the path that led up to the cave.   
  
"And that was true!" Bakari shouted as he followed Mahes. "I honestly did want to help, I swear it, but I also thought it’d be good to have a partner with a strong ka."   
  
Mahes stopped for a moment to shoot a chilly glare in Bakari’s direction. "So you're a liar as well as a thief." He continued to march back up the path.   
  
"I didn’t lie! Maybe I didn't explain all my intentions, but-"   
  
"Don't pretend like you didn't know what you were doing!"   
  
"Has your life not been better with me than it ever was in that gods-forsaken tomb?"   
  
Mahes was near the entrance to the cave. He stopped at Bakari’s last question, shoulders slumping. "Yeah..." he confessed. "Yeah...for the first time in my life I was happy...that’s why it _hurts_ to find out you were using me."   
  
Bakari’s mouth dropped open, dry and uncomfortable feeling. There was a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, and for the first time, Bakari thought he might be experiencing guilt for his actions. Before, there was no crime, whether it was stealing from dead pharaohs or killing guards that were trying to kill him, that Bakari felt was unjustified, but with Mahes it was different. Bakari had grown to truly trust Mahes, to value his company. At first he’d just been a convenient kid Bakari found in a tomb instead of treasure, but now Mahes was-   
  
"Look." Bakari sighed. "I’m sorry. Maybe I should have explained the entire deal to you, but it's not exactly like we were on good terms. Remember? You put a knife to my throat? And then I took it and did the same to you? I didn’t trust you back then, and you had no reason to trust me either." Bakari went inside, gesturing for Mahes to follow, and Bakari was relieved when Mahes walked into the cave behind him.   
  
Bakari turned to look up into Mahes’s eyes. "The truth is there's a lot about the outside world you still don't know, Mahes, and some of it you won't like, and some of it you won't want to believe, and it’s too much to tell you all at once."   
  
Mahes’s lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed. "What else are you hiding from me?"   
  
"A lot," Bakari confessed. "And I plan on telling you everything, but not all at once. I'll explain things as you're ready."   
  
"I’m not a child, Bakari!"   
  
"No, you're not," Bakari agreed. "But you did live isolated from the entire world with a crazy old man spouting nonsense-"   
  
"Don't talk about my father like that! He tried his best! It’s not easy raising a demon alone! He tried his best!"   
  
"His best?" Bakari shouted. "He tortur-"   
  
"Purified!" Mahes shrieked, the veins in his neck and temples swelling from rage. "He used purification rituals to help keep the demon at bay!"   
  
"He made those rituals up, Mahes, because he was crazy!"   
  
"No! You’re a liar, Bakari!" Mahes marched up to Bakari’s face, screaming at him. "You've proven yourself a liar! I don't have to listen to you!"   
  
"This is exactly why I can't explain everything to you, Mahes! You won’t believe me! But I swear-"   
  
"You just don't know! You don’t know! You didn't have parents to teach you these things!"   
  
Bakari clenched his teeth, jaw aching from tension. He grabbed Mahes’s shoulders, spittle flying from his lips as he screamed. "That’s right! I didn't have parents! I didn't have anyone! Because the pharaoh stole them from me! He murdered them, and turned them to gold, and then stole them, and how dare you tell me I can’t take a jar of wine when the royal court wears the people of my village like trinkets!"   
  
Mahes didn't look like he could hear Bakari. His face was screwed up tightly in pain, and he whimpered. The sight brought a little sense back to Bakari’s mind. His grip was firm, but it shouldn't have hurt, but then he remembered that Mahes was a mottled, twisted mess of old wounds, and while Bakari’s grip wouldn't hurt anyone else, it was probably hurting Mahes. He let go the moment he realized this, wailing in a mix of rage and helplessness. He spun around to the nearest cave wall, pounding his fist against brown stone until he felt his knuckles split and bleed. Bakari screamed at the rocks until his throat felt raw and then dropped onto his knees, leaning his burning forehead against the same cool, brown stone.   
  
The cave was silent, and then Bakari felt a light touch against his shoulder.   
  
"Bakari?" Mahes asked.   
  
"What?" Bakari sniffed. His knuckles throbbed; his throat was still sore.   
  
"Wh-what did you mean? When you said they were turned to gold? Was it magic? Were they cursed?"   
  
"In a way." Bakari nodded, changing his position so he sat facing Mahes instead of kneeling in front of the wall.

He looked up at Mahes’s wide, lavender eyes. "They came after dusk. Royal soldiers on royal horses with royal priests commanding them. Because they were royal soldiers they had well-made spears and bronze swords, while my people had hammers and daggers. We couldn't fight an armed cavalry. My mother hid me, and then went to find my father..." Bakari shook his head, trying not to feel like he was living it all over again, but he shook with the old fear of his childhood and sweat rolled down his temples as if the fires still burned. "They wounded or slaughtered _everyone_ , piled the bodies like sacrificial cattle, and then...then... The dead ones were lucky. The dead ones never felt the fire. The wounded..." Bakari hardly breathed, his words sifting out of his throat. "They screamed."  
  
"T-they burned them?"  
  
Bakari nodded. "Burned...melted...melted them into gold. I heard the priest speak of Shadow Alchemy, and a great power. They poured the gold into a mold, and seven items came out, and then they left. They left like it was nothing, but, but, the villagers, their souls are trapped, even now they’re trapped in the charred ruins of Kul Elna." Bakari shook his head, trying to get the memories out of his head, failing, his hatred rising hot in his throat with his bile. "They're still screaming."  
  
"But why? Why would the pharaoh let that happen? He’s supposed to uphold Ma’at and protect everyone."  
  
"Why? For power- that’s why. The land was being attacked by foreigners, so the pharaoh slaughtered my people for those Items, and then they slaughtered everyone that tried to take their wealth, and power, and privilege away. So tell me, Mahes, who’s evil?" A strangled, mournful growl slipped out of Bakari’s mouth. "One day I’ll steal the Items back, take back to Kul Elna what was stolen _from_ Kul Elna, but until then I'll rob tombs, steal their ornate fans and their gold bangles, their pendants and their best jars of kohl. They don’t need treasure to survive in the afterlife, but I’ll use that treasure to buy food that _I_ _need_ _to_ _survive_ , and that _you_ _need_ _to_ _survive_ , until the day comes when I can balance the scales between me and the pharaoh."   
  
Mahes made a choking noise, pushing the sleeves up his arms so he could hold his burned skin. He shook, his skin paler than normal, his temples also sweat-speckled.  
  
Mahes’s whimpers brought Bakari out of the nightmare of his memories. "Mahes, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you."  
  
"I'll do it. I’ll help you." Mahes grabbed the back of Bakari’s head and brought their faces together until their noses touched, a sign of affection that Bakari had only ever seen carved in tomb walls, but never actually felt before. Mahes kept their noses pressed together, whispering. "I'll help."    
  
Bakari leaned into Mahes’s touch. He slipped his fingers up the sleeves of Mahes’s robes, and Mahes didn't push Bakari away. He searched the ruins of scars around Mahes wrists, seeking out any bit of less damaged skin so he could caress it, hoping Mahes could properly feel the gentle touches. "I’m sorry," Bakari whispered. "I’m sorry."  
  
He wasn't apologizing for their argument, or for his confession. What Bakari was sorry for was the fact that he hadn’t found Mahes sooner, before so much of his body had been burned.   
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Bakari and Mahes lay by the fire. They were on their sides, face to face, sharing long, languid kisses. They kept a gap between them so as not to irritate Mahes's scars, but their hands were linked together and Bakari’s toe kept slipping up and down the top of Mahes’s foot where his skin was smooth and more receptive to touch.  
  
Bakari had taught Mahes what kissing was a few days prior, first explaining it and then showing him by example, and now Mahes couldn't seem to get enough of it. Now, every time Bakari turned around it seemed like Mahes was there, pressing Bakari against the cave wall, or gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips. Mahes wanted to do it all the time- in the morning when they woke up, in the afternoon after they had their lunch, in the evening once their chores were done, and at night before they fell asleep next to each other. Sometimes their kissing would lead into them pleasuring each other with their hands or mouths, but other times they would just kiss, for much longer than what Bakari thought was appropriate.

Bakari always had to be the one to put a stop to it, to remind Mahes that they had work or training to do and couldn't afford to just laze around all day. He thought that he shouldn't indulge Mahes so often, but he really didn't have the heart to refuse Mahes whenever Mahes leaned in close. It wasn't that Bakari _wanted_ to do it so much- kissing was for love-sick saps and not legendary tomb thieves- but he thought it would hurt Mahes's feelings if he rejected him. Mahes always seemed skittish and nervous with the fear that Bakari would be disgusted by him, and Mahes had never been able to enjoy this kind of human touch before, so it would be cruel to deny him- and besides, it would be annoying to deal with it if Mahes got offended. Bakari didn't _need_ the affection; affection from another person had been absent from his own life for a long time and he was used to it- he was just being nice. But niceness only went so far; he had to draw a line somewhere.  
  
So he pulled away from Mahes, shoving down any feelings of reluctance and immediately dismissing them, though he kept their fingers intertwined. He'd dropped the subject of tomb robbing and avoided mentioning it for the last few days, not wanting to poke at a sore spot so soon, but Mahes had agreed to help him after all, so they would have to talk about it sooner or later. Now was as good a time as any, especially since Mahes always seemed softer and more agreeable after they'd kissed.

"So...are you ready?" Bakari asked.  
  
“Hmm?” Mahes still looked dazed from their kissing.  
  
Bakari took his free hand and ran it through Mahes's golden locks. "I want to rob a tomb tomorrow. You said you'd come with me and help."  
  
"Oh." Mahes's eyes focused, and he seemed to come back to himself. "Alright...I guess..."  
  
"Since it will be your first time, I won't even ask you to do anything. Just be there, ready to help, in case I get into trouble and need your- power- to get out of it."  
  
Mahes nodded slowly, and Bakari said, "But it probably won't even be needed. I don't usually have any problems. This is basically just practice."  
  
Mahes sighed and rolled onto his back, separating their hands. "Yeah, okay." But Bakari noticed that Mahes trembled with nervousness.  
  
"We'll start out easy," Bakari assured him. "We'll check out some tombs first, look around, see which ones seem simplest to rob. We'll go for one that doesn't seem like it will be much trouble."  
  
Mahes abruptly got up and retrieved his robes from the sleeping mat, shrugging into them in one quick motion. "Fine. Let's get this over with."  
  
Bakari got up as well, not wanting to squander this moment of acquiescence from Mahes. The two headed out of the cave in silence. Bakari led the way, and when he hopped onto Minkah, Mahes took his hand and got on behind him without a word, by now practiced at the art of riding a horse. They took off for the Valley of the Kings, a place of many tombs from the fairly recent past. Bakari had been there several times before and knew the best route to get there.  
  
As they travelled, Mahes clung to Bakari's waist more tightly than usual, and when they arrived at their destination, Mahes was silent- but Bakari had expected that, and was grateful for it. He was the one who was best equipped to judge the tombs in regards to how easy they would be to steal from, and he was glad that Mahes didn't attempt to give his input. They rode by several tombs, keeping enough distance so as not to look suspicious as Bakari watched the guards, looking at the entrances of the sites to see how well they were protected. Many of the larger tombs had several guards, immaculately dressed and all looking alert and ready for any kind of trouble, and Bakari passed those by. Eventually they came to a small tomb of what must have been a lesser noble from the past, since there were only two guards outside. Both guards seemed irresponsible- they were laughing and drinking together, sprawled out on the sand, obviously not taking their duty seriously.  
  
Bakari brought Minkah to a halt and turned to address Mahes. "That's the one."  
  
Mahes's face was twisted in disgust as he observed the guards. "I hate to say it, but...they almost deserve it, for acting that way."  
  
Bakari wanted to say he couldn't blame them for not taking their duty to the pharaoh seriously when they were likely paid a pittance in comparison to what the pharaoh and his court enjoyed, but he bit his tongue. Mahes was obviously trying to commiserate with him, trying to justify his robbing of tombs- there was no sense in arguing with someone who was on his side, even if he'd come to the conclusion for the wrong reasons.  
  
Instead, Bakari said, "We won't hurt them. Look at them, do they seem like the type who would give their lives to protect that tomb? As soon as we threaten them, they'll run."  
  
Mahes finally relaxed his grip on Bakari, and Bakari knew that he'd made the right choice as far as his words to Mahes- refraining from killing or harming anyone was more important to Mahes than any specific moral diatribe. Not that avoiding killing was unimportant to Bakari, but some moral concepts were more complex than what Mahes was ready for.  
  
"Tomorrow," Bakari said. "At nightfall."  
  
Mahes nodded behind him. "Tomorrow."  
  
Bakari turned Minkah around to ride back to their cave. Once they were inside, Mahes's arms secured themselves around Bakari’s neck. They looked into each other's eyes, and Bakari knew that Mahes wanted to kiss again before they slept. He told himself that he would only agree to it for the sake of keeping the peace between them, so that Mahes wouldn't back out of robbing a tomb with him, but when they finally laid down together that night and their fingers intertwined and their lips met, Bakari forgot everything. His careful plans, his insistence that he was only indulging in the act for Mahes’s sake, his resolve to keep their relationship as a convenient partnership- Bakari couldn’t think of any of those things when Mahes started to pull at Bakari’s bottom lip.  
  
Mahes drew away, looking sheepish. “Yeah, I know, I know. We should go to sleep because we have to be alert tomorrow night.”  
  
Mahes’s eyes were bright and the color of coriander blooms. His hair gleamed in the firelight. That beautiful, pale hair that brought them together. Bakari licked his lips, missing the pressure of Mahes’s mouth, and used their interlocked hands to pull them closer together.  
  
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Bakari growled low in his throat, slipping his tongue back into Mahes’s mouth before the other could argue with the compliment.  Their pressed lips muffled the moan Mahes made, and he shut his eyes and greeted Bakari’s tongue with his own.

* * *

 

The guards ran the second they saw Diabound and Shedu, screaming about demons. Bakari rolled his eyes. It was bad enough that Mahes already thought his ka was demonic- he didn’t need validation of his fears. What was with tomb-keepers and demons anyway?  
  
“Stay close and only step where and how I step,” Bakari muttered to Mahes as they entered the first hallway into the tomb.  
  
“I know how tomb traps work, Bakari.”  
  
“Every tomb is different.”  
  
“I’m still not ignorant.”    
  
Sure he wasn’t. He'd never heard jackals call out before and thought his own soul was some sort of otherworldly monster, but he wasn’t ignorant. Bakari physically bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything out loud. Arguing wasn’t going to help them rob the tomb, and could get them both killed if they missed a trap, so Bakari stayed quiet and kept walking.  
  
“There are dozens of false chambers and a maze of hallways on top of the traps,” Mahes spoke behind Bakari as he followed him. “How will we know where to go without one of the guards guiding us?”  
  
“I follow my gut instincts.”  
  
Mahes snorted. “I’m amazed you’re still alive.”    
  
“Mock if you want, but you won’t find a better tomb-raider than me.”  
  
“Watch that stone-”  
  
“Yes, Mahes, I'm aware. That's why you're following me, remember?”  
  
“I just figured that I'd let you go on ahead so when you mess this up I can escape easier.”  
  
Bakari ducked beneath a wire. “Who would you kiss if I died?”  
  
“No one,” Mahes confessed, his voice lowered to a soft tone. “I could never show anyone else my hair, or my scars, or touch them - y’know, like we do.”  
  
Bakari couldn't repress his grin. There was a certain amount of pride in being the only one who would ever get to see every beautiful inch of Mahes's body, and to be the only one to taste wine off of his lips. Bakari had to swallow the urge to turn around and look at Mahes. He took a deep breath and kept his eyes focused ahead of him, scanning for traps as they walked.  
  
“It’s sort of … disturbing … being back in a tomb.”  
  
Bakari frowned. He hadn’t considered that the closed-in walls and shadows would bring back bad memories for Mahes. “Not much longer now.”  
  
“Y-yeah, sure.”    
  
They came to a dead end. A brazier in each corner mangled their shadows against the stone wall in front of them.  
  
“So much for your gut feelings,” Mahes groaned. “Now we’re going to have to backtrack and find our bearings before we try another path, and-”  
  
Bakari interrupted Mahes with robust, echoing laugh.  
  
“Quiet, you jackal.” Mahes scowled. “What if those guards return?”  
  
“Those cowards? Please, not every tomb guardian is as dedicated as you were, Mahes.”    
  
Mahes flushed a little in the firelight at the compliment. He tried to cover it up by grumbling at Bakari. “I still don’t see why you’re laughing.”  
  
“Because.” Bakari flashed Mahes a grin. “This is the way we need to go.”  
  
“Bakari, it’s a dead end.”    
  
“For us.”  
  
“Yes. For us. We’re the ones trying to find the treasure chamber, and there’s a wall in our way.”  
  
“Watch.”

Diabound appeared behind them, a tight squeeze, but he fit. The giant ka seemed to melt into the shadows, slipping into the wall as if it were a mirage.  
  
“H-how?” Mahes stuttered.  
  
“That’s why I keep telling you to train more. Every ka is different. They each have their own skills and abilities, unique to them just like we ourselves are artisans, or blacksmiths, or …” He paused, snorting before speaking his next words, “or tomb builders.”  
  
“Or tomb thieves?” Mahes raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Yes. We all have our skills. Diabound can disappear into shadows and slip through walls.”  
  
A grinding sound made Mahes jerk and jump back. The wall shook and groaned, and the stone slabs slid away revealing a secret door. Bakari stepped into the next chamber with a proud smirk stretching across his face.  
  
Mahes rolled his eyes, looking around the tomb. A large front entrance stood across from them. They could have found another way, but it would have been longer, and the traps more dangerous. Mahes hated to admit it, but Diabound really was useful, and he respected the creature for that. The walls showed murals of great feasts, of nobles and royals gorging themselves on meats and pomegranates and wine until they vomited. It was hard to ignore some of the things Bakari had said about the rich being greedy when Mahes stared at the chamber walls. This particular nobleman seemed to love nothing more than feasting and whoring.  
  
They each had a bag and they filled them with gilded fans and pendants set with garnets and malachite. Mahes stole the hunting sticks left so the nobel buried within could hunt in the afterlife. He refused to take the statues of various gods, however; it seemed wrong to Mahes to steal them.  
  
As Mahes admired one such statue, he felt Bakari walk up behind him. Mahes opened his mouth to scold Bakari for playing around, but then the scent of lilies, myrrh, and cinnamon drifted over Mahes and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.  
  
“Like it?” Bakari purred in Mahes’s ear. “I found some perfume vessels.” He chuckled. “Might not sell these.”  
  
Mahes opened his eyes and looked at Bakari, who held up an alabaster bottle filled with Susinum. Bakari dabbed some of the scent on his fingers and lifted them towards Mahes’s neck, pausing for permission to touch Mahes. He nodded, allowing Bakari to trace fragrance down the side of Mahes’s neck and at his wrists right before the scars began. Finished, Bakari leaned closer and brushed his nose along the delicate skin of Mahes’s throat, making Mahes shudder.  
  
“It smells good on you,” Bakari said, still teasing the nape of Mahes’ neck with his nose.  
  
Mahes grabbed Bakari’s hair and tugged him upward until their mouths crashed together.  
  
Bakari laughed. “Idiot, we’re supposed to be working.”  
  
“You started it,” Mahes hissed, stealing another kiss from Bakari. The scent of flowers and spice clung to them as they kissed, and after a few moments of indulgence, Mahes did let go. “Come on.” He wiped his lips on the sleeve of his robe. “Let’s hurry up and go home.”  
  
Bakari grinned. “Yeah? What are we going to do once we’re home?”    
  
“Hurry up and you’ll find out.”  
  
They shoved a few more treasures into their sacks and then prepared to leave. Mahes licked his lips, daydreaming about touching Bakari that night. A strange snap sound lured Mahes away from his thoughts.  
  
“You idiot!” Bakari shouted, shoving Mahes to the ground with a loud grunt.  
  
Mahes didn’t understand what was happening, why they were on the floor, or why something warm was seeping through his robes.  
  
“Idiot …” Bakari coughed above him. “Didn’t you notice that trahhh … fuck … I think the dart … pois-” Bakari dropped down, a sudden heavy, dead weight on Mahes’s body.  
  
“B-Bakari?” Mahes asked, expecting the rouge to laugh, call Mahes a fool, and get up so they could go back home, but he didn’t move.  
  
Mahes struggled to unpin himself from beneath Bakari’s body. In his panic, he couldn’t feel if he was straining his scars or not, nor did he have time to think about it. Bakari was his only priority. Mahes examined the short, narrow dart poking out of Bakari’s chest. The wound wasn’t deep, but a strange pattern formed around the skin where the dart had pierced Bakari. Mahes frowned. The black marks weren’t in the shape of poison travelling through veins. It was a sort of magic sigil, similar to ones he’d seen in scrolls as a child.  
  
Mahes grabbed the dart and pulled, but no matter how hard he yanked, the dart wouldn’t budge.  
  
“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Mahes screamed. He didn’t know the nature of the curse, but assumed that Bakari only had a limited amount of time. Mahes bent his knees and put everything he could into trying to lift Bakari up, but only stumbled back and fell to the tomb floor.  
  
Mahes whimpered when he hit; his skin felt stretched and uncomfortable around his body as he hit the ground. He curled up on himself, but with a growl he slammed his hands back on the ground, ready to push himself back up and try again.  
  
That was when a soft nudge bumped against his head. Mahes jerked his head up, prepared to fight, but then realized that when he had hit the ground, the pain had caused him to summon Shedu unconsciously. Mahes flinched, his father’s lectures about demons echoing in his mind, but Bakari never believed in any of that, and Bakari needed help, and Shedu was fond of Diabound, so Mahes pushed himself to his feet and pointed to where Bakari’s body lay.  
  
The demon knelt on his knees, flattening his body low to the ground, and Mahes tied the two bags together and slung them around Shedu’s neck. Mahes didn’t care about the treasure, but even dying, Bakari wouldn’t forgive him if he left everything behind, so he made sure to take it with him.  
  
Next he hoisted Bakari’s dead weight up and over Shedu’s back. He screamed with the effort. His skin felt like it wanted to tear apart from the strain, but he managed, gasping and dripping sweat from his forehead as he and Shedu stood up and raced out of the tomb.  
  
Outside there were no signs of the guards, only Minkah where they’d tethered him. Mahes leapt onto Minkah’s back and they rode through the desert with Shedu flying beside them. They rode so fast that Mahes could only pray to the gods that he didn’t bruise Minkah’s hooves, but seeing Bakari’s body slung limp across Shedu’s back blinded Mahes to caution. They raced home, and Mahes set Bakari near the fire. The sigil on his chest had grown, darkening the skin around the shaft of the dart. Mahes searched every shelf, chest, and basket in the cave, but he couldn’t find anything that would help.  
  
Mahes poured honey around the wound, hoping it’d help or at least slow the curse, but in the end the best herbs, wines, and treatments would fail. Mahes needed a magical treatment to cure a magical wound, and no priest or magi at the temples would treat a pale haired demon-host. Mahes had to do something and he had to do it on his own.  
  
There was only one possibility that Mahes could think of. The tomb in which he was raised belonged to an old Pharaoh, only remembered because of his ren carved all over the walls of his final resting place. Surrounding the main tomb were a dozen smaller tombs belonging to the old pharaoh’s wives. Mahes had never seen them himself- even fleeing with Bakari they hadn’t passed them- but Mahes’s father used to tell him stories of the tombs and the queens buried within in them.  
  
The youngest wife, Selket, was strong in protective and curing magics. Mahes’s father used to tell Mahes that her tomb was easy to distinguish from the others because two scorpion statues guarded the entrance, symbols of the goddess Serqet. Searching her tomb was Mahes’s greatest chance of finding something to save Bakari’s life…of stealing something…  
  
To save Bakari’s life.  
  
Mahes stared at Shedu, who filled up the cave with his presence, his lion tail swinging from left to right. Minkah was spent from the ride back, and he didn’t have  enough time to travel by horse.  
  
“I hope you’re fast.” He sighed, wondering if he was doing the right thing- riding a demon to a tomb in order to rob it- but it didn’t matter anymore. Good…evil…what was any of that compared to Bakari’s life?  
  
He mounted the demon, who circled around the cave in order to exit. Shedu didn’t hesitate; he sprung from the ledge of the cave and soared into the sky with huge wings. And he was fast, so fast, a dozen Minkahs merged into one swift beast. The hills, the oasis, the desert, everything below them blurred as they flew, and Mahes felt like a god.


	8. Chapter 8

He did not wait. He did not plan. He did not care if the guards fled or attacked. Mahes used his knees to nudge Shedu down, down, down, and straight into the entrance of the tomb. He saw two specks flee before he slipped into the first hallway, and he was grateful that it wouldn’t come to fighting. He didn’t have time to fight.  
  
Mahes didn’t have Bakari’s “gut feeling” for navigating tombs, and he kept running into dead ends. The traps were easy enough to avoid since this tomb was for the wife of the Pharaoh whose tomb Mahes himself used to guard. The traps here were no different; however, Mahes screamed at every dead end. If he didn’t hurry…  
  
Above, Mahes saw a hole in the stonework, a shaft that angled up into darkness and shadow. Mahes remembered a similar one in his own tomb. He’d crawled through it as a child to investigate and had found the Pharaoh’s main chamber. That had been the day he’d seen opals that would later remind him of Bakari’s eyes.  
  
He had to stand on Shedu’s back, barely squeezing through the crawl space now that he was an adult. Shedu couldn’t follow, so Mahes called him back to conserve his ba. As he shimmied through the dark square of space, drenched in sweat and panicked from childhood horrors, Mahes couldn’t help but feel thankful for Shedu. Mahes would not have reached the space without his demon- would never had made it to the tomb in time without his demon’s help. In fact, Shedu didn’t feel like a demon. He didn’t feel evil, but Mahes didn’t have time to consider it further.  
  
He reached the end of the crawl space and had to shove his thoughts aside. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he had to find it or Bakari would die. He summoned Shedu once again. Mahes didn’t really need to… maybe he didn’t want to be alone in a tomb again, maybe he hoped Shedu would help somehow, either way Mahes summoned him and started tearing through chests and baskets searching for a spell that would remove Bakari’s curse.    
  
Unlike Bakari, Mahes had some faith in the gods, or at least he wanted to, but even he couldn’t imagine they’d help him find a spell book in order to steal it. Nonetheless, the third chest he searched contained a single tome, and that tome held both curses and their counterspells, and everything was diagramed.  
  
Mahes riffled through the pages, careful not to tear them. An image caught his eyes, specific hieroglyphs spiraling outward on a picture of a man's body. They were the same as the markings killing Bakari.  
  
The next page contained the spell to reverse the curse. Mahes jumped to his feet, clutching the tome to his chest. “Shedu! I found it!”  
  
Hearing his name made the creature bound towards Mahes. As he trotted forward, his tail clipped a statue of Serqet. The breath caught in Mahes’s throat as the statue teetered on its pedestal. He lunged to catch it, but it fell before he could reach and shattered against the stone floor. Mahes dropped to his knees, reaching out and resting his hand on a large, broken shard.  
  
“What have we done?”  
  
Mahes stared at the fragments on the floor, but he knew the answer- defiled a tomb, destroyed the image of a goddess. And worse, even though it must have been a sign that he and his demon shouldn't be here, it wasn’t enough to stop him from stealing the tome. He needed it. He  needed it, and he was going to take it. Even if it damned his soul.

* * *

 

  
Mahes felt heavy as he entered the cave. Guilt tore chunks out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even picked up the shards. There was no time. He’d been in such a panic he hadn't even remembered to check which items he'd need for the spell before leaving the tomb. Mahes knelt beside Bakari, listening to his forced breathing, thankful that he was still alive, and hoping that whatever the spell required, it would be something they already had. He set the tome on the floor, looking at the ingredients he needed for the spell.  
  
He laughed, but it was from stress and not joy. Honey and coriander- that’s all he needed. It was stupid in its simplicity. There were words to be spoken- perfectly- in order for the magic to work, but it was strange to think that the bothersome little seeds Bakari ate with everything ended up being the very thing Mahes would need to save him. Mahes swore he’d never complain about coriander bread again. It was like Bakari himself, something wild and strange whose presence was too much for Mahes at first, but it had grown on him.  
  
He used a mortar to grind the seeds into a powder, adding enough honey to make a fragrant paste. Mahes used his fingers to paint the ointment onto Bakari’s body, covering the dark markings polluting Bakari’s skin. When Bakari was candied with the paste of honey and coriander, Mahes began to chant.  
  
He spoke the words, repeated them. They hummed from his mouth like prayers. He could feel the magic resonating in his sinuses along with the sounds of each syllable. Mahes rocked as he chanted. Desperate. Desperate for the spell to work. He couldn’t think about the alternative. He shoved those thoughts deep into the back of his mind and focused on the words.  
  
He said it all once, and then he repeated it a second time, then a third; he needed to make sure it worked, so he chanted until he was breathless. When he gathered the courage to look at Bakari’s chest, he saw nothing but beautiful, slightly scarred, nut brown skin with a simple bolt wound in the chest. Mahes used his sleeved forearm to wipe at his eyes.  
  
With both hands, Mahes tugged the bolt from Bakari’s chest, crying out in joy when it finally withdrew. He used herbs and linen to clean and bandage the wound. His laughter as he tended to Bakari was relieved, but hysterical. He even licked some of the honeyed coriander directly off of Bakari’s chest. He wanted the taste of it, the wild, strong taste of it, of both the coriander and Bakari’s skin. He wanted to swallow it, hold it in his belly, and let it become part of himself.  
  
Mahes bathed Bakari’s body, washing away sweat, dried blood, and excess honey. When he could do no more for him, Mahes lay beside him, resting his hand on Bakari’s stomach, so he could feel it rise and fall with Bakari’s breathing.

 

* * *

 

  
“You set off a trap,” Bakari said.  
  
Mahes jerked into a sitting position. Only on waking did he realize he’d fallen asleep. He looked at Bakari. His eyes were closed. He looked asleep.  
  
“I did not,” Mahes said out of reflex.  
  
“Yes you did.” Bakari popped a single eye open.  
  
“That’s because you were distracting me.”  
  
“Don’t blame me because you stepped on a trap.” He tried to sit up, grunting and then going back down.  
  
Mahes held his shoulder. “Don’t get up, you moron! You’re still injured! You’re lucky I found the right tome or you’d be dead!”  
  
Bakari’s brow wrinkled. “Tome?”  
  
“Yeah,” Mahes looked away. “You were poisoned with a curse. So I stole a spell book from an old tomb near the one you found me in. It belonged to a healer.”  
  
“You robbed a tomb? On your own? I’m actually proud of you!” Bakari flashed a toothy, almost horse-like grin, but he still managed to make the expression attractive.  
  
“Don’t be!” Mahes snapped, turning back to face Bakari. “She wasn’t a selfish pharaoh or a corrupt magi. She was a queen and a healer. She helped people. She was good- and Shedu broke the statue of her matron goddess! See? Demons-”  
  
“If she was a healer, then she’d be okay with you taking a book to heal someone!”  
  
“Maybe. I just wish I hadn’t broken the statue.” Mahes winced.  
  
“She’s with the gods. She doesn't need a statue of one.”  
  
“Maybe,” Mahes repeated. He knew Bakari would only argue and he was injured, but Mahes felt like Bakari was only saying the words to calm Mahes down, not because he believed them.  
  
Bakari grunted, toying with the mat below him. “Anyways…thanks. It was your fault that I got a bolt to the chest- but it’s also because of you that I’m alive. I know you don’t like breaking into tombs, so the fact that you did…for me…” He shook his head. “Is there any wine?”  
  
“Of course there is.” Mahes stood, getting a jar.  
  
He figured the least he could do was wait on Bakari a bit while he was injured. It _was_ the idiot’s fault that Mahes set off the trap, but he _did_ save Mahes’s life once it was triggered. They’d saved each other’s lives that day.  
  
They sat, passing the wine jar and talking until Mahes had to build the fire up for the night. When he decided to lay down, Mahes pressed himself against Bakari’s side, holding him with one arm, but careful to lay it across Bakari’s stomach so he didn’t jostle Bakari’s wound.  
  
“I thought you were going to die.” The words tumbled from Mahes’s lips unbidden.  
  
“Could have. You made sure that didn’t happen.”  
  
“Yeah …”  
  
Mahes lifted himself up with his arms, hovering over Bakari. He stared at Bakari for a long time, thinking about opals and coriander. Bakari only stared back. Mahes closed his eyes first.  
  
“I thought you were going to die-”  
  
Mahes crushed their mouths together. He pulled back, dotting small kisses on Bakari’s forehead and down the bridge of his nose.  
  
Bakari turned his face away. “Don’t coddle me.”  
  
Mahes flung his eyes open, a flash of anger in them. He pinched Bakari’s chin and turned Bakari’s head so they stared eye to eye.  
  
“I damned my soul for you today.”  
  
“Mahes, no. No, you didn’t.”  
  
“How am I supposed to look the gods in the eyes during the Tribunal and give the Negative Confessions? I’ve worked with a demon and stolen from gods and dead kings. I’ve damned my soul- just like you’ve damned yours. I can do all that for you but I can’t even kiss your face?”  
  
Bakari flushed, avoiding eye contact with Mahes. “Whatever, just…do whatever you want, I’m too injured to argue with you right now.”    
  
Mahes smashed his eyebrows together into an angry line. “I’m not going to kiss you if you don’t like it.”     
  
“I- I mean-” Bakari stuttered for words, the flush on his cheeks deepening. “I don’t _mind_ the kissing. It just seems excessive. You’re making a big deal of nothing; I almost die all the time.”    
  
“Well stop, it pisses me off.”  
  
“Then don’t step on weighted tiles-”  
  
“Well don’t distract me with perfume-”  
  
“Then don’t be so easily distracted!”  
  
“See why I’m always kissing you? Every other time you open your mouth it infuriates me!”  
  
“Then shut up yourself and kiss me again!”  
  
Mahes yanked at Bakari’s silvery hair and brought their mouths together again. He tried to stay irritated, but the longer their lips pressed together, and the more times Bakari’s tongue slipped into his mouth, the more difficult it was. Soon their kisses grew less violent. Mahes’s fingers released Bakari’s hair, dropping down to Bakari’s shoulders and smoothing paths across Bakari’s collarbone. He tried to avoid Bakari’s chest, but Bakari kept tugging at Mahes, trying to get their bodies closer together.  
  
Bakari fought with Mahes’s robe until his hands were beneath it. He kneaded up and down Mahes’s thighs, caressed, and circled his thumbs. He tried and tried to pull a reaction from Mahes, but Mahes’s body was too scarred, too damaged, to properly enjoy Bakari’s efforts, and being any rougher would only chafe and hurt him. With a frustrated growl, Bakari finally grabbed Mahes’s cock, pulling back the foreskin and gliding his hand down the hardening shaft.  
  
Mahes gasped. Yes, yes, yes, he wanted it. He wanted Bakari to touch him. He wanted to feel what it was like to be touched and be able to truly _feel_ it. Ever since that first time in the oasis, Mahes loved it each time Bakari touched him, and he could never get enough of Bakari’s warm palm stroking him.  
  
He tore away Bakari’s shenti. He reached between Bakari’s legs, toying with Bakari’s balls until he was hitching his hips up.  
  
“Stop moving. You’ll reopen your wound.”  
  
“I’m fine. Don’t stop.”  
  
“Stay still if you don’t want me to stop.”  
  
“I can’t.” Bakari shuddered in pleasure even as he argued.  
  
Mahes straddled both of Bakari’s legs, squeezing his thighs in order to hold Bakari in place. As soon as Mahes finished shifting, Bakari grabbed his cock again and went back to his vigorous stroking. Mahes returned the gesture by grabbing Bakari’s erection in return. He flicked his wrist, going up and down Bakari’s shaft with a steady rhythm and brushing against the head with his thumb during each up stroke.  
  
Bakari curled his toes, arching, coming, screaming Mahes’s name. His hand froze on Mahes’s cock while the orgasm seized him, but as soon as he recovered, he redoubled his efforts of touching Mahes. Mahes held his robe up, giving Bakari free reign to touch wherever he liked.  
  
Bakari used both hands, and Mahes bucked into Bakari’s closed fists. He started moaning, throwing his head back, forgetting about the constant aches and tightness plaguing his skin in a glorious moment where pleasure replaced discomfort. He felt himself nearing the edge, but held back, allowing the shivers and spasms to run through him and trying to extend the moment for as long as he could.  
  
“Mmmm…” he moaned. “Bakari. Bakari.”  
  
Bakari’s breath hitched in his chest as Mahes repeated his name. “Damn the gods, you’re beautiful.”  
  
Mahes turned away from the compliment, his face on fire, but he felt too good to argue. In that moment, he was beautiful, and he didn’t mind Bakari staring at him. Mahes pulled his robe up over his head and dropped it to the floor, exposing the entirety of himself for Bakari to look at. Every ugly mottle of flesh, every scar, every flaw was made bright by the firelight.  
  
Mahes had to shore up his courage before he could look Bakari in the eyes. Bakari’s eyes were lidded and hazy from his orgasm, but his attention was focused on Mahes. He stared like Mahes was some wonder, some miracle of the gods, he stared at Mahes in the same way Mahes had stared at his first sunrise.  
  
Mahes kept his eyes locked with Bakari’s, brushing a strand of bright, sun-colored hair away from his eyes. The air felt charged with static, with heka.  
  
Mahes dragged his fingers down his own chest. There wasn’t much sensation to it, but Bakari’s eyes latched onto the sight of it, and a sharp bolt of pleasure shot up from Mahes’s groin to his navel. Mahes hugged himself, balancing and bucking harder into Bakari’s grip. He bit his lower lip, unable to hold back a second longer. He moaned as he came. Afterward, he stayed straddled over Bakari, but a little slumped and still hugging himself as he caught his breath.  
  
“Good?” Bakari asked in a smug voice.  
  
Mahes answered with a snort and a grin, getting up and finding fresh linen so he could clean their bodies. He also replaced the linen around Bakari’s chest, adding fresh herbs and honey. They shared a jar of beer as a late supper, and after talking for a bit, Mahes laid beside him once again. He was exhausted from the day’s ordeals and he was still feeling relaxed and content from earlier, and Bakari must have been the same, because he didn’t complain when Mahes rested his hand on Bakari’s stomach.  
  
“You know, if we are damned, we could skip the Tribunal and become outcasts in the Duat,” Bakari said.  
  
Mahes thought about it. They were already outcasts because of their light hair, but wasn’t that the fault of the gods? Why not run off into the otherworld wastelands, find a cave just like the one they now slept in, and steal what they needed in their afterlife just as they did in their life?  
  
“It’s better than being eaten by Ammit.”  
  
“I’m so glad I’m a suitable alternative to oblivion,” Bakari said in a dry voice.  
  
Mahes gave him a sleepy laugh. “Honestly, I’d rather exist as an outcast with you than be a king who stands alone. I was always alone until I met you.”    
  
“I’ll never let you stand alone,” Bakari said. “I’d face Ra in battle at your side if I had to.”

Mahes chuckled. “You must be delirious from blood loss.”

“That must be it.” Bakari smiled and closed his eyes.

Mahes did the same, and settled in to sleep beside Bakari.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: disassociation and thoughts of self-harm

Mahes shot up from his sleeping mat, his breathing heavy, his heart racing. Even as he told himself it was just a nightmare, he looked around frantically for Bakari. But the thief was nowhere to be seen.

Mahes tried to calm himself. He knew Bakari sometimes wandered at night- he might leave the cave to investigate a suspicious noise, or to check on Minkah, or simply to get some fresh air. The fact that Bakari was off by himself when he was still injured was worrisome to him, but he knew deep down that Bakari could handle himself.

Still, Mahes’s panic was intensified at waking up alone in the dim room, their fire still burning but not producing enough light for his liking, and casting ominous shadows on the stone walls.

And anyways, it hadn't been just a nightmare, no matter what he tried to tell himself- it was more of a memory. When robbing the tomb- the kind of tomb he'd been sworn to guard- his demon really _had_ knocked over a statue of the goddess Serqet, and the event had played over and over again in his dream.

It proved that he could never escape from the evil inside him- even if he was trying to do something good (by stealing from the dead...could that really be good, even if it was done for a good cause?) his demon still lashed out and managed to desecrate the gods themselves.

He couldn't control it. Maybe Bakari was right, maybe in time it would be possible for Bakari to teach him to control it, but as of now he couldn't, and he knew it was because it had been too long since he'd been subjected to a purification ritual- with nothing to suppress it, the demon was becoming wild, out of control.

At that thought, a strange calm suffused throughout his body as the memory of the dream settled over him. He knew what he had to do. He felt far away from himself, as if his ba floated near the ceiling of the cave instead of being housed inside him, and with no thought, no real weight behind his actions, he reached for a stone near the fire pit.

It was warm, but not hot. Still, he wound a piece of stray cloth around one end of the rock so that it didn't hurt his hand. His hands- they had always been spared from the rituals, along with his feet and face. This was because it was his duty to guard the tomb, and mangling his hands would have impaired his ability to use weapons, and burning his feet would have hindered his movement, and harming his face carried too a great a risk of damaging the senses- sight, hearing, smell- that helped him detect thieves.

But he no longer guarded a tomb, and now the weapons he used his hands to wield would only be used to further defy the gods.

He was barely aware that he'd been holding the stone close to the flames during the time his train of thought had unfolded, heating it until its unwrapped side was glowing. He didn't feel as if he moved his arm himself- it was like a puppeteer drew his arm back from the fire and brought the heated part of the stone close to the open palm of his other hand.

He was about to place it against his palm, but before he could register what was happening, Bakari was there. He smacked the hot rock out of his hand and screamed in Mahes’s face.

“What the hell are you doing? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I have to,” Mahes said, his voice toneless. “I have to suppress the demon.”

Bakari grabbed Mahes's shoulders and shook him. He'd promised himself he would never do that again, but in his distress he didn't think of what he was doing.

But Mahes seemed too far away from himself to register any pain from Bakari's grip, or even be aware of Bakari’s presence. And after a moment Bakari could see it, that Mahes wasn't truly there with him.

In desperation, Bakari removed his hands from Mahes’s shoulders and moved them to cup his face, but gently this time, and he kissed him, not knowing why but somehow believing it was the right thing to do.

Bakari pressed their lips together briefly and then pulled away, and Mahes seemed to come back to himself, at least a little, staring at Bakari as if realizing he was there for the first time. “I'm sorry- but Bakari, you don't understand- the demon-”

Bakari cut him off with a loud sigh. At that moment, he made a decision. It was time. And consequences be damned. There was no other option now. He steeled himself. “Mahes, do you trust me?”

“Yes, but- what does that have to do with-”

“Remember when I told you there are things I'm still hiding from you? Things you won't want to believe? I don't know if you're ready to hear those things yet, but...I think you have to. Before you hurt yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” Mahes’s eyes clouded with confusion.

Bakari heaved another sigh and stood up, offering a hand to Mahes. Mahes took it automatically, and as Bakari felt the undamaged flesh against his palm, he uncharacteristically thanked the gods for the fact that he'd gotten there in time and Mahes hadn't managed to burn his hand.

“I have another cave besides this one, one I use to store various treasures I've stolen,” Bakari said, forcing himself to let go of Mahes's hand now that he was standing. “Can't be cluttering up the place we live with all that stuff, there wouldn't be room. But the point is, there's something there that will prove to you what I'm about to tell you, just in case you don't believe me- and I know you won't want to.”

Mahes just nodded, not saying a word, still feeling shaken and strange, almost surprised to be fully in control of his own body again, and he let Bakari lead him outside.

They rode Minkah to Bakari's secondary cave, and the trip was so short that Mahes barely had time to wonder what Bakari was going to show him.

Once inside the storage cave, Bakari lit a lantern for light, and searched among the shadowy corners until he found the tome he was looking for.

“Before you, I hadn't talked to another person- really talked- in so long,” Bakari said, holding the book in front of him like a shield. “I don't really know how to. So I'm sorry I don't have any pretty words for you. I'm sorry I don't know how to break this to you in a gentle way- if a way like that exists.”

Mahes looked at him with a question in his eyes, and after a time, Bakari finally said what he had to say.

“The power inside you isn't a demon, Mahes- it's your ka. A natural part of your soul. And it's not evil- in fact, if you were evil and you managed to summon your ka, it would be dark and corrupted, and not nearly so powerful. Even then it still wouldn't be a demon, just a reflection of your own soul. But Shedu isn't dark and twisted, he’s clearly a ka of the light, and Diabound is too. Only the good and pure of heart can summon a ka like that. And all light-hairs have especially powerful ka- we weren't cursed by demons, we were given a gift from the gods. For all the good that does us, considering everything else the gods seem to like to put us through.”

Mahes blinked, then blinked again. The information seemed to take a while to sink in, which was unsurprising, so Bakari let him process it. Bakari expected Mahes to rage, to cry, to scream, to hit him, to call him a liar again, but instead Mahes was silent, his expression blank. Bakari waited, and after a minute, Mahes sank to the floor, his body limp against the cave wall.

Bakari lowered himself to sit next to him, and placed a gentle arm around his shoulders. He didn't want to prod, but knew it was necessary- if he couldn't fully convince him, then this was all for nothing.

“You know I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, right? There would be nothing in it for me...and I know I'm a bastard, but I wouldn't hurt you this way for no reason. I'm not sadistic.” Bakari opened the book he held, thumbed through it, and set it on the ground in front of Mahes. “But if for some reason you don't believe me, here's more proof.”

Mahes looked at the book for only a few seconds, his eyes scanning the page, then looked back up at Bakari, his expression forlorn.

“You already knew, didn't you?” Bakari asked, his voice gentle. “Deep down, you knew.”

Mahes’s stolid countenance broke then, his face crumpling, tears leaking from his eyes. “Why? Then why would he…hurt me…like he did...”

“I don't know.” Bakari felt helpless in the face of Mahes's obvious grief, and said the only thing he could think of that might make him feel better. “Maybe he really believed it. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe it wasn't his fault.”

“My mother…” Mahes choked out, after a moment of silence. “It's because of me that she died...maybe that drove him over the edge, made him superstitious…”

“If it helps you to believe that, then that's what it was,” Bakari said. He knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but damn it, he didn't _know_ what the right thing to say was, and he just wanted to make this all go away. But he took a breath and went on, needing to convey the reason he'd brought Mahes to this dark place. “But the important thing to remember is that Shedu isn't a demon, he's your ka, and you don't need to hurt yourself.”

Bakari reached out to touch Mahes’s face then, and lifted his chin. “Please don't try to hurt yourself again.”

Mahes looked into Bakari's baleful stare, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I've hurt you too. I hurt everything I touch.”

Bakari shook his head, and leaned in to kiss Mahes’s lips. “No, you saved me. You and Shedu. Don't be ashamed of that.” His free hand reached out to card through Mahes’s golden locks.

A small smile appeared on Mahes’s face, but just for an instant. Then he looked downcast again, and turned his head away from Bakari. His body went limp again. Bakari was tired, and he hurt, and he wanted to be home, and he wished everything didn't have to be so hard.

“You're still a brat, though. We all have problems. Doesn't mean I want to stay the night in a cold cave without a hearth or any sleeping mats. So get up and let's go.”

Bakari snapped his mouth shut as soon as the words were out, thinking how stupid he'd been to let that slip out, believing he'd made a mistake- but then he looked at his partner and saw that it had been, strangely, the right thing to say, to not treat Mahes like he was fragile, and Bakari was grateful to see the expression of stubborn determination bloom on Mahes’s face as he struggled to rise. Bakari lent a hand to Mahes’s undamaged hand once more and almost thanked the gods again that he'd found someone so amenable to his natural personality, who he never had to hide or pretend or censor himself with, but he cut off the thought as he pulled Mahes to his feet and led him out of the cave to head home.

 

* * *

 

Bakari and Mahes sat cross-legged next to each other on the sand, in a wide open space not far from their cave, the sun low in the sky before them.

Bakari glanced over at Mahes. “Are you sure you're ready for this?”

“We’ve got to do it sometime, right? Maybe it will be better this time, now that I...know.” Mahes was trembling slightly, but he looked determined.

Mahes seemed to choke up a bit on the last word, and Bakari placed a reassuring hand on his knee for a moment, but then quickly withdrew it.

“It will be better. Now that you know he's your ka and not a demon, you can get to know him. Accept him as a part of you, an extension of yourself. Learn how to use him, and trust him to help you and look out for your best interests.”

“It's just so...strange to think about. All that time...thinking he was evil...but he's really just a part of my own soul.” Mahes swallowed.

“Not only that...remember what I told you. A ka is inherently good. You saw what the books said. A corrupted soul would make him dark and twisted. But Shedu isn't like that. He's not evil at all, he's good, and so are you.”

Mahes let out a nervous chuckle. “I almost feel like I should...apologize to him or something.”

“That probably won't be necessary. But if you're ready...call him out and let's see how he’s doing.”

Mahes took a deep breath. He thought it might be easier to summon Shedu this time, but instead it was harder- he was nervous to face him, now that everything he knew about the creature had changed. But after a good bit of time spent concentrating, Shedu finally appeared before him, pawing at the ground in all his golden glory. He didn't seem angry at Mahes, but only stood there looking at him, as if awaiting instruction.

But Mahes turned away from him, gazing out over the empty desert.

“You know, I was thinking…” Mahes trailed off, casting a nervous glance at Bakari. Bakari raised his eyebrows and Mahes continued. “It might be best if I didn't go with you when you rob tombs anymore...at least for a while.”

Bakari frowned, but sighed and said, “I know you've been through a lot lately. And the last time you robbed a tomb, you _did_ save my life, so I guess I owe it to you to cut you a little slack.” Bakari absently rubbed at the place on his chest where the arrow had entered. “Plus, your incompetence at tomb robbing is what almost got me killed in the first place, so maybe it's best for both of us this way.”

Mahes gave him a tart look, but chose not to respond to the insult, since he was getting his way so easily. “Even if I'm not stealing from tombs, I won't just sit around being useless. I've got a lot to learn about my ka, and what I can do with him. Also, I was thinking I might want to learn how to do magic. I know you may not see that as being useful to you in the same way that robbing tombs is, but magic _is_ part of how I saved you. I'm sure my being knowledgeable about it would come in handy to you sometimes.”

Bakari shrugged. “Sure. I think there might be some tomes regarding magic in the other cave. And I can grab more for you if I happen to see any- a lot of tombs have books of magic spells.”

Mahes nodded and turned back to Shedu, but then just stared at the glowing creature, blinking, seeming unsure what to do next.

Bakari called Diabound, hoping it would make things less awkward for Mahes, but he almost immediately regretted it- the moment Shedu saw Diabound, he bounded towards him and leapt on him, and what was worse was that Diabound put up with it, letting Shedu growl over him and lick at his face; they looked like they were greeting each other as old friends. Bakari tried hard not to roll his eyes.

But when Bakari chanced a look at Mahes, he saw him suppressing a small smile that was trying to quirk his lips. “Alright, see if he'll follow a command from you.”

“Um…” Mahes started. “Shedu…” Shedu perked up and looked at Mahes. “Uh...run...over there? East?”

Shedu paused for a moment, cocking his head, but then he ran off in the direction Mahes had indicated. As he faded into the distance, Mahes called, “Oh, uh, come back, I guess.” Shedu turned on his heels and started back towards them, and Mahes looked down, pulling at the sleeves of his robes. “Sorry, I don't really know what to tell him to do.”

Bakari was just relieved Mahes’s ka was no longer slobbering on his. “It's fine, you're getting comfortable with each other. It's good that he listens to you.”

Shedu arrived and skidded to a stop in front of Mahes, practically on top of him, and Mahes had to force himself not to flinch back. He reminded himself that his own ka wouldn't hurt him. “Uh...good boy?”

“He's not a housecat, Mahes.”

“Sorry, I just...I mean, what exactly are we trying to do here?”

“Well, eventually, it would be good if you could figure out what his powers are. Remember how I told you that all ka have their own powers, like the way Diabound has the ability to phase through walls, and you've seen how that helps me when I'm robbing tombs. Shedu’s power should be something specific to you, something connected to your own soul. But for right now-” Bakari suddenly broke off and looked sharply to the east, where Mahes’s ka had just come from.

“What is it?” But Mahes saw the answer to his question before Bakari could respond. A group of men on horseback were coming over the rise.

“Fuck,” said Bakari, leaping to a standing position in one fluid motion. “Let's get back to the cave. Can you ride him? If not, Diabound can-”

“Yeah, I...I rode him to the tomb I robbed…” Mahes winced for a moment at the memory of that day, but then wasted no more time and hopped onto Shedu’s back as Diabound scooped up Bakari.

In an instant they were off, the two ka falling into an easy rhythm with each other. Bakari smirked at Mahes and with a conspiratorial wink said, “Let’s race.”

Mahes smiled and otherwise didn't bother responding, mentally spurring Shedu to go faster, and Diabound darted after him with Bakari in tow.

They weren't far from the cave, but the lead was lost and overtaken many times, the two ka jostling against each other and fighting for position.

When the cave was in sight, and Shedu was starting to pull a bit ahead, Bakari had Diabound slam sideways into Shedu, throwing him off course for a moment, and Diabound pulled ahead and deposited Bakari in front of the vine-covered entrance of their home.

Shedu was there with Mahes not a second later, and Mahes rolled off his back and made sure that he landed on Bakari in such a way that his elbow was digging into his side.

“Fuck you, you cheated!”

“Unf, get off me- you're just a sore loser!”

Mahes laughed and surprised Bakari by grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Bakari responded for a moment, letting his tongue explore Mahes’s mouth, but then he pulled away and said, “You still lost.” He gave Mahes a sardonic grin. “So, you can ride him...any other abilities you haven't told me about?”

Mahes thought for a moment, trying to take the question seriously. Even though Bakari was being a jerk, they were supposed to be training, and he knew it was important. He wanted to understand his ka. “Well, he can create light.”

“That does seem fitting, since you're so afraid of the dark.”

Mahes wasn't sure whether to take that statement as an insult, but after a few moments of looking at Bakari with narrowed eyes he gave into the mood of the day and pulled him close again to kiss his face. Bakari seemed to be trying not to smile, and Mahes mirrored his expression for a moment before he glanced around and noticed that Shedu and Diabound were still hovering over them. It really shouldn't have been awkward, since he knew now that the ka were part of their own souls, but still he was about to call Shedu back when Bakari suddenly jolted up with a gasp.

“How are they here? They couldn't have followed us…”

But apparently they had. Mahes followed Bakari’s gaze and saw the men on horseback from earlier, rushing over the dunes towards them.

“This is bad...if they're from the kingdom...even if they're not...they can't know where this place is.” Bakari's brow was creased with worry.

The cave entrance was hidden, but if the men had followed them, they would know where to look, and the two were sitting right in front of the disguised entry way, with the  men coming fast. Bakari stood, his muscles tensing as he drew a knife, ready to fight if he had to. Diabound floated next to him, prepared to attack. Bakari didn't want to kill them, and he knew Mahes would hate it, but if they saw this place they couldn't leave alive.

Mahes saw Bakari’s stance and felt beads of sweat spring out on his skin, the light mood from earlier now totally gone. If they were found, he thought, he could lose the only place...then his internal dialogue cut off and for just a moment he felt his mind locking up in panic, but then suddenly he was bathed in a golden light and a strange calm came over him.

Bakari took in a sharp breath, looking left and right, and Mahes could tell that he saw the strange luminescence as well.

For a moment they were unable to do anything but stare at each other in confusion, and before they knew it the men were upon them, and confusion turned to wonder as the men simply rode on past, not seeming to see them at all, the thunder of their horses’ hooves already fading into the distance by the time the two were able to process what had happened.

Then the golden light disappeared, and Bakari barked out a laugh, giving Mahes a very light slap on the back. “Well, looks like you're good for something after all.”

Mahes continued to stare in shock for a second, his brain taking a moment to register the insult. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Actually, I can probably thank myself- your ka heard me talking about how you need to figure out what his powers are, so he probably recognized my superior skill and realized he'd better show us what he can do.”

Mahes scoffed and called Shedu back, far too shaken up to deal with anything more regarding his beast at the moment, as useful and benevolent as he might be. “What is it you're on about?” he asked, heading into the safety of the cave.

Bakari called back Diabound and followed. “Don't you even know what you did, you ignorant kid? Shedu must have hidden us. We were...inside his light, kind of. That's why everything looked all golden. He must have the ability to manipulate light. When those bastards came by, they just saw...well, who knows what, maybe something that looked like a mirage, but not us or our hideout.”

Mahes almost said that if he'd really managed to figure out his ka’s powers so quickly, then he certainly deserved the credit, but he was too shaken and drained to argue about it at the moment. 

“Good to know. Now leave me alone, asshole. It's been a long day; I'm going to sleep.” With that Mahes plopped down on his sleeping mat and squeezed his eyes closed.

There was silence, and then several moments later, Bakari curled up behind him. “Thanks, though. I guess you kind of saved our asses- of course, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in these situations in the first place. Before you came around, I never got shot with poisoned magical arrows, or had people follow me to my cave without my noticing...it's just because you're always distracting me-”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Mahes cut him off. “You're distracting me from sleep right now.”

Bakari laughed and went to wind his arm around Mahes’s waist, then remembered it would chafe him and instead ran his fingers through the golden hair that matched the color of the stubborn youth’s ka.

Mahes let out a contented sigh and leaned into Bakari’s touch. His fingers laced together with Bakari's as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Mahes woke up and trained, and when the sun grew too hot for training outside with his ka, he studied magic. There was hardly a moment when Mahes didn't have a papyrus scroll in his hand- as he ate bread, as he drank beer, as Bakari paced the cave and complained that Mahes studied more than a priest in a temple.

Bakari dragged him to the oasis every few days, and Mahes always went because he enjoyed both the cool feeling of water on his skin and the burning feeling of Bakari's hands on his cock while they sat on a sandbar and kissed. However, except for their trips to the oasis and market, Mahes stayed home. When the thief took Minkah out after dusk, Mahes studied by firelight.

He knew these nights Bakari was either casing or robbing a tomb. Mahes always worried, always imagined Bakari being pierced by a tomb-keeper’s spear, or triggering a trap, or getting so lost in the maze of stone and dead ends that not even Diabound could find a way out. Nevertheless, Bakari always returned with the dawn.

It was one such moment. Mahes knelt by the fire, grinding coriander powder from the whole seeds he harvested from the parsley plants that grew near the oasis, and he noticed a sudden shadow slip into view. Mahes gathered his energy, on the verge of summoning Shedu, but then he realized it was Bakari grinning down at him.

“Asshole!” Mahes cursed. “You're lucky I didn't attack you!”

“You're just pissed that the tomb thief was quiet enough to sneak up on the tomb guard.”

“I wouldn't call myself that anymore.” Mahes stood up, stretching out his robe-clad arm. “Take it.”

“Is it a scorpion?” Bakari reached out his hand.

“It's a present.” Mahes dropped a pendant into Bakari's palm. “It will protect you.”

Bakari grinned at the charm for a moment before reaching into his scarlet robe and pulling out a thin scroll sealed with a small, dried dab of melted gold.

“I have a present for you as well.”

“Is it a spell?”

“I think so. I've never seen one sealed with gold before, so it must be important.”

“Thank you, Bakari. I know you wanted me to help you rob tombs, so I appreciate you letting me study magic instead.” Mahes took the scroll and slipped it into his own robe’s pocket.

Bakari roared with laughter. “Listen to you! All that reading's making you too cultured. I used to have to fight you for any small show of gratitude. Now you're almost eloquent about it. Where did that brat from the tombs go?”

“Shut up and be happy that I said _thank you_ instead of making a fuss.”

“Hey.” Bakari stepped close and laced his fingers with Mahes’s. “I never said I wasn’t happy.”

Bakari started to lean forward. Then his eyes grew wide and he tried to pull away when he realized he was showing too much emotion. It was too late, however. He already had his hands tied up with Mahes’s, and Mahes pulled Bakari a little closer, squeezing their hands and dabbing his tongue against Bakari’s lips. Bakari couldn’t refuse; he opened his mouth and tasted Mahes in return. Mahes pressed forward as they kissed. Bakari stepped backwards until he felt the cave wall against his back. With a quick push, Mahes slammed Bakari’s hands over head, pinning them against the cave wall. The thief sighed, closed his eyes, and melted against the wall as Mahes deepened their kisses. He could feel the whisper of Mahes’s robes against his chest and cursed the gods that they couldn’t press closer without irritating Mahes’ skin.

Their lips grew slicker with each kiss. Mahes dropped his hands down so he could cup Bakari’s face, and Bakari ran his thumbs up and down Mahes’s wrists, seeking every touchable bit of skin.

“I’m happy, too,” Mahes whispered.

“I-I should get some sleep. I’ll be back out tonight and-”

“Wait, before you go to sleep, come outside with me. I’m getting really good with Shedu’s powers.”

“Okay.” Bakari nodded and followed Mahes down the mountainside and to their training grounds.

“Think you could help me out?” Mahes asked.

“Sure, what do you need me to do?”

“Oh, nothing too difficult for someone of your talents, I’m sure.” Mahes wore a mocking smile that lit up the color of his eyes. “All you have to do is- find me.”

He disappeared with the words. Bakari stood, blinking. He realized Mahes must be standing in Shedu’s aura like they’d done the day the guards passed them by. Bakari walked forward. He searched the desert, looking for anything that might have given away Mahes’s location- a sound, a shadow, the smell of tomb-stolen perfume- but saw nothing but desert, heard nothing but the wind, and smelled only his skin warming in the sunlight and the dust clinging to his feet.

“Bakari! Over here!” Mahes waved from beside a boulder.

Bakari kicked up dust as he jogged towards Mahes, but his image shimmered and vanished before Bakari’s eyes- a mirage, not the real Mahes.

“Nice trick,” Bakari snorted, trying to sound unimpressed.

He heard laughter from behind him and turned. Three Maheses stood and laughed at him, each with the same smirk on their beautiful faces.

“Okay, fuck this.” Bakari brought out Diabound.

He didn’t really have a plan. Diabound hid in shadows and phased through walls. Neither of those talents were really what Bakari needed to find an illusionist. But, as luck would have it, the moment Diabound appeared, Shedu grew too excited and leaped on top of Bakari’s ka. They both crashed to the dirt together, nuzzling and smothering each other with affection.

“Shedu, what are you doing! I wasn’t done teasing Bakari yet!” He gave Bakari an apologetic look. “I really have gotten better. I realized that Shedu can bend light and manipulate the image of anything in his aura.”

“You’ve done well,” Bakari confessed. “You have a lot more control over Shedu than the last time we trained together.”

An odd expression settled over Mahes’s face. “Bakari?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re our souls. Our ka. The ka is part of one’s soul.”

“Yeah?” Bakura repeated, but this time his pitch was higher and the word was much more of a question than before.

“Well … look at them.” Mahes gestured as they continued to rub their noses together and swish their tails in excitement.

Bakari’s face flared up. He pulled Diabound back and started storming back to the cave.

“Bakari? Where are you going?” Mahes called after him, following him.

“To bed! I already told you I need to go out again tonight.”

“Don’t you dare run away from me!”

“I’m _not_ running away,” Bakari growled. “I just don’t have time to-”

Shedu was still out, and Mahes used him to fly ahead of Bakari and block his retreat. Mahes un-summoned his ka and stood staring at Bakari.

“Do you mind?” Bakari scowled.

“Bakari.” Mahes drew close, raising his hands to cup Bakari’s face.

“Don’t.” Bakari stepped back, refusing to look Mahes in the eyes.

“Why not?”

“I have to stay focused on my vengeance.” Bakari balled his hands into fists. “I don’t have time for Diabound to frolic with Shedu.”

“Then let’s go to sleep- together.”

Bakari remained silent. His gaze finally shifted to Mahes. “Only if you take off your robes while we sleep.”

Mahes gave a reflexive tug to the sleeve of his robe. “I suppose I could. You’ve seen me before.”

He grabbed Bakari’s hand and pulled him the rest of the way up the trail and into their cave. Inside, Mahes pulled the lavender robes up over his head, dropped them onto the sleeping mat, and stood near the firelight so that Bakari could look at him. Bakari stood close and ghosted his fingers down the scars on Mahes’s stomach.

“I understand why you prefer the robes, but I like moments like these when I simply get to touch you.”

“I never could understand how you can touch me without being disgusted by all the scars,” Mahes admitted, staring away from Bakari.

“Because you’re beautiful- that’s how- and that hasn’t changed since the first time I saw you.” Bakari spoke with a tone of finality that warned Mahes not to challenge him because his mind wouldn’t be changed on the matter. He brushed the hair out of Mahes’s face so he could stare at him while his fingers continued to graze Mahes’s wound-tangled skin as if it were treasure.

It overwhelmed Mahes. He pushed the scarlet robe off of Bakari’s shoulders and tore the shenti away from his waist. Mahes pressed their chests together, gently so as to not hurt. Bakari’s gaze grew hazy and unfocused as they sank down to the sleeping mat together.

“This is why you’re bad for me,” Bakari muttered between slow, passionate kisses. “I should be resting.”

“You’ll rest much better by the time I’m done with you.” Mahes reached between Bakari’s legs and massaged Bakari’s balls.

Bakari grunted, then moaned, raising his right leg awkwardly into the air to give Mahes better access to everything he had. Mahes’s hand wandered up and gripped Bakari’s shaft.

“Mahes.” Bakari bucked into his partner’s grip as he clawed at the cloth beneath them.

“So?” Mahes slowed down his strokes until Bakari was gritting his teeth in an attempt not to beg. “Did you want to sleep? I can stop, or I can keep distracting you. Whichever you’d prefer.”

“Don’t stop.” Bakari’s voice was dangerously close to a whimper as he continued to hitch into Mahes’ fist.

Mahes dragged his lips across Bakari’s brown chest. He flicked his tongue when he reached Bakari’s nipple, his hand moving faster. Bakari swelled in his hand, growing hot and twitching as his orgasm drew close. Mahes moved up to his throat, biting and then sucking.

Then he trailed his lips back down Bakari's body, slowing his strokes again, making Bakari wait until his lips reached his cock and encased the dripping head. He started gradually, swallowing Bakari's erection inch by inch, and then he set a leisurely pace as he began to move his mouth up and down, his hand following. He kept things slow until Bakari was shaking and panting and unconsciously gripping his shoulders hard enough to hurt, and then finally Mahes sped up, setting a quick rhythm as he licked and sucked and squeezed the base with his hand, and it was just a minute later that Bakari’s fingers and toes all curled as he came.

Bakari took a moment to catch his breath, and then grabbed Mahes’s erection in order to return the favor.

Mahes gasped at the warm, rough feel of Bakari’s palm against his aroused cock. Mahes forgot about his physical pain and discomfort as Bakari lavished Mahes’s body with caresses all while giving firm, even strokes to his erection. Mahes sighed, relaxing in Bakari’s hold and trusting Bakari to continue making Mahes feel as wonderful as he always did.

He pressed their mouths together. Their kisses were clumsy and a little savage as they moved against each other, but Mahes wanted to be moaning against Bakari’s lips when he came. The feeling of their lips pressed together helped Mahes’s pleasure climb, and a few minutes later he did just as he wanted, coming and moaning against Bakari’s lips. They stayed close together, until the stiffness crept back into Mahes’s skin. Bakari got up, found cloth, and cleaned them both up before settling next to him and locking their fingers together.

* * *

 

Bakari woke at dusk and dressed. He ate a quick meal of bread and beer and then prepared to leave for the tomb he’d cased the night before.

“I’m going with you,” Mahes said, back in his robes and drinking his own jar of beer.

“Mahes-” Bakari frowned. “You know what I’m going to do.”

“Rob a tomb. Yes, I know. Haven’t you figured out that I’m not stupid? I said I’m going.”

“ _You’re_ the one that insisted you stop robbing tombs, and if you’re not going to help me steal, then you need to stay home.”

Mahes’s jaw clenched. “Look, idiot, I’m offering to help you, okay?”

“I told you it was alright. Shedu can help keep our home concealed from guards and other thieves, and your healing magic will be useful if I ever get hurt fighting other tomb guardians. You’re pulling your weight even without helping me rob tombs at night.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot, as I study, as I train. I decided that my tragedy- my father’s insanity, the wounds he inflicted, never seeing the sun as a child- happened because the pharaohs want tomb guardians watching over their tombs even hundreds of years after they die. And for what? So they can be rich in this world and the next? Why do they need gold in the Field of Reeds?”

Bakari blinked, surprised by Mahes’s words.

“Maybe I won’t go with you every time.” Mahes toyed with the hem of his sleeve. “But I think I should go with you at least one more time. If for no other reason than to see how well I can handle Shedu in a real situation instead of alone while training.”

“Let’s go, then.” Bakari grinned, happy for the extra help. “Just don’t set off any traps this time.”

“Last time was _your_ fault _._ ” Mahes followed Bakari out of the cave and to the place where they stabled Minkah.

They rode to the tomb, arguing about who was to blame the entire time. Not that it really mattered anymore, but Mahes loved how riled he could make Bakari with a few simple words. When they drew close to the tomb, however, they both quieted and rode in silence.

There were four armed guards at the entrance. It shocked Mahes to see how grand a tomb Bakari had chosen to rob on his own.

Without being told what to do, Mahes brought Shedu out, surrounding them with a golden glow. They left Minkah behind and walked past the guards as if they were pharaohs themselves, returning to their tomb to enjoy the treasures left within.

“I'm glad you were here,” Bakari said after it was safe to talk. “Diabound can hide in the shadows, but Shedu’s concealing powers are better for this, and you know I'd always rather sneak past guards than fight them.”

“Is there a reason you chose this tomb? Surely there are easier ones?”

“I need the practice. Soon it'll be time for me to face the Pharaoh, but before I do I plan on breaking into his father's tomb.”

“Why? For a specific treasure?”

“For the royal corpse itself. My family's been defiled. Their bodies are trapped within the gold of the Millennium Items.” Bakari clenched his teeth, every muscle taut with emotion. “I have to show him what that feels like. To see a loved one desecrated.”

“It's okay.” Mahes rested a hand on Bakari's shoulder, hoping to calm him down so he didn't set off a trap while distracted. “I understand.”

“It's still not enough. One corpse isn't enough…” Bakari exhaled and went down the corridor again. “But it's the best I can do, and it'll be enough once I get the Items back.”

“Bakari...you know I'll help any way I can.”

“Thanks, Mahes. You're the only one I trust enough to have my back.”

Mahes ducked his head at the compliment. “I’m not worried. I know the strength of your ka, and I'm confident that you can win.”

“That means a lot to me.”

They stopped speaking. This time Mahes allowed Bakari to lead without mocking him. If they found themselves in a dark chamber, Mahes used Shedu’s light. If they found a dead end, Bakari used Diabound to open up a secret passage. Mahes had to admit that they worked well together when they didn't argue. At the end of their journey was the treasure room, filled with more gold and riches than a hundred people could use in their lifetime.

Mahes still left the god statues and holy relics alone, but he no longer felt any shame in taking the gold.

 

* * *

 

They rode away from the tomb draped in treasure. Both laughed at the stars as the cool air pushed their hair away from their faces. Loaded with treasure as they were, Minkah wasn’t going nearly fast enough for Mahes.

“I have an idea!” He shouted so that Bakari could hear him over the wind.

“What is it?”

“I’m sure Minkah doesn’t want all this weight on his back. Let’s race our ka home and give our poor horse a break.”

Bakari grinned. Diabound appeared and scooped Bakari into his hands. Mahes was ready for him to cheat, and Shedu followed close behind. With themselves and their bags of loot with their ka, Minkah was able to dash across the sand at a quicker pace, but he still fell behind them as the two ka pushed forward.

The sky paled to gray, and by the time they reached the valley light peeked over the mountain tops. The morning was cool and the ground lit up in sheets of golden light and black shadow. Mahes and Shedu won and he called out in celebration. He felt like Ra riding a chariot of fire.

“Dammit!” Bakari swore, but his face lit up with a smile. “I better back track and make sure Minkah is still on the path.”

“Need help?” Mahes asked, sliding off of Shedu’s back and calling his ka back, exhausted from using him to break into the tomb and then race home.

“He shouldn’t be too far behind. Get breakfast ready?”

“No problem.” Mahes winked before walking up the trail and to their cave.

Once inside he bathed with oils as he used to before Bakari started taking him to the oasis. He kept his robes off, but left the golden bracelets and anklets around his wrists and ankles. Mahes wove chains of gold and lapis lazuli into his hair and wore a thin chain around his stomach- too thin to irritate any of the scars.

Next he built up the fire and tied back the vines covering the entrance to their cave, trying to bring in as much light as possible to shine off of the gold laying against Mahes’s skin. By the time Bakari returned, Mahes was smirking and waiting for him, naked except for the gold glittering against his body.

“Oh…” Bakari stammered, mouth slack from a mixture of surprise and interest.

“Well, you said get breakfast ready.” Mahes rested one hand on a marred and mangled hip. “I’m ready.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Get your nose out of that scroll for a second and come see what I've brought you from the tomb.”

Mahes was so absorbed in the spell he was reading that he was startled again by Bakari's return. He looked up from his papyrus to see Bakari standing at the entrance to their cave. The rays from the setting sun filtered through the vines and silhouetted him, almost making him seem to glow.

Mahes got up and stepped towards Bakari. “Is it another spell? The last one was pretty-”

“No, it's something that will be much more fun than that,” Bakari said with a wink. “Take off your clothes.”

Mahes was not inclined to argue, used to being naked around Bakari by now and always eager to have Bakari's hands and lips on him. As Mahes shed his robes, Bakari brought out the object he'd been hiding behind his back- a large clay pot of pale blue adorned with delicate golden filigree, which he set on the floor at Mahes’s feet. Before Mahes could ask what it was, Bakari removed the lid, releasing a cool, slightly sweet scent with an undertone of spice that quickly permeated the air all around them.

“It's lavender oil,” Bakari explained. “I've heard that the healers say it calms you and helps to alleviate pain. Especially for older wounds.”

“So you think it'll help my scars?”

“No harm in trying. Lay down.”

Mahes did, spreading his robes over his sleeping mat as usual. Bakari shed his own robes so as not to get oil on them and then knelt next to Mahes, dipping his hands into the pot.

He started with Mahes’s fingers, wanting to test the lavender on undamaged skin first, massaging it into his palm. Then he slowly worked his way down Mahes’s arm, coating his scars in the oil with a light touch.

“How does this feel?”

“Nothing yet...doesn't hurt, though. And it smells nice.”

Bakari did the same to Mahes’s other arm, enjoying the fact that at least he could touch Mahes without chafing him when his hands were dripping with the slick oil. When he reached Mahes’s back, he dared to press a bit more firmly, sliding his palm between Mahes’s shoulders.

“Tell me if anything hurts.”

Mahes was silent, so Bakari experimented with pressing a little harder, kneading the muscles in Mahes’s shoulders, and Mahes let out a sigh.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, that actually feels...nice.”

Bakari smiled and began to massage Mahes’s back, working the muscles beneath the damaged skin, pausing every once in a while to scoop more oil out of the container. He wasn't sure how much the lavender itself was really helping to relieve Mahes’s pain, but the slipperiness of the oil at least prevented his touch from hurting Mahes, allowing him to press hard enough for Mahes to feel it in the muscles that were under his numb skin.

He continued down Mahes’s back, rubbing the tension out of him, Mahes sighing with contentment every little bit until Bakari couldn't help returning his sighs, glad to have found another way to touch Mahes that made him feel good.

His hands travelled down Mahes's body, massaging his buttocks and then each of his legs, and sometimes he lingered over areas of skin, just brushing his fingers against Mahes’s flesh, happy that he could just touch him like this, even if he knew his lighter caresses couldn't be felt.

When Bakari had touched every available inch of Mahes's body from his fingers to his toes, he sat back and said, “Turn over.”

Mahes rolled over onto his back, stretching like a cat as he did so, obviously relaxed but, Bakari could see now, also obviously very turned on.

He reached between Mahes's legs and gave a few quick strokes to his erection, causing Mahes to arch up and let out a low moan, but then he moved his hands up to Mahes's chest, digging his fingers into the pectoral muscles.

“Bakari-”

“Oh, you want me to touch you right here again?” he asked with a smirk, sliding a slippery hand over Mahes's cock.

“Mm, yes…”

But Bakari stopped again, slipping his hands up to Mahes's stomach. “Soon. Not quite yet.” Their eyes locked, and Bakari gave him an intense stare. “I want to touch you _everywhere_ first.”

Mahes gave a little groan of frustration, even as his eyes betrayed pleasure, and he dropped his head back as Bakari let his palms circle over Mahes's belly and sides. Once Bakari was satisfied that his fingers had traversed every bit of skin above Mahes's waist, he gave his erection a few more short pets, and when Mahes hitched up into his touch he moved on to stroke his hips, and then his thighs.

Mahes spread his legs wide, giving Bakari access to everything he wanted to touch. Bakari circled his thumbs against Mahes's inner thighs, smiling at the way Mahes's breath quickened as he let his hands drift upwards. He cupped Mahes's balls and played with them a little- he knew the skin there had no feeling, but Mahes seemed to feel at least something inside now that he could be touched without pain, just as he'd enjoyed the feeling of Bakari gripping his muscles through his skin.

Mahes's cock was already leaking, and Bakari bent to lick up the liquid, the bitterness of it offset by the sweeter taste of the lavender oil. Mahes gasped at the sensation of Bakari's tongue on him, but was soon to be frustrated again as Bakari moved away and began to massage at his calves.

“Bakari- please-”

“Soon,” Bakari whispered, taking his time working his way down Mahes's legs.

Finally Bakari's hand returned to Mahes's cock, giving it a few too-slow strokes as he said, “Are you ready for me to concentrate my efforts here now?”

Mahes gave a jerky nod in response, and Bakari leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Do you want me to use my mouth?”

“Gods, yes,” Mahes all but moaned as he clutched Bakari’s bicep in desperation.

“Oh? You like when I do that?”

“It's...so good I can hardly stand it,” Mahes admitted, his voice strained and needy.

“Oh,” Bakari breathed, and then he dipped his head down, kissing a trail along Mahes's chest and stomach until he reached his erection. He circled his tongue around the tip and Mahes moaned at the sensation. Then Bakari let his tongue drift down to his shaft, ignoring Mahes's cries of frustration as he took the time to lick every bit of oil off of the pulsating flesh. By the time he moved back up to fully enclose the head between his lips and suck the last of the oil off of it, he had to hold down Mahes's twitching hips to keep him from bucking too much.

Mahes let out a whimper of protest when Bakari started to lick his way down again, but there were some things Bakari wanted to try before he gave Mahes what he most wanted.

He took Mahes's balls into his mouth, one by one, carefully, sucking a little, Mahes panting underneath him. When Mahes began to squirm he released him from his mouth and let his tongue trail back up to Mahes's pulsing cock, sticking to the narrow paths of undamaged skin as he made his way to the head and dipped his tongue into the hole, licking up the new liquid that had gathered there before giving a series of little kisses to the tip.

Mahes let out a high whine when Bakari began working his way down again, and Bakari reached up to rub Mahes's sides, his palms soothing him with a slow circular motion.

“Shh, beautiful. I see how you try to hold back when I'm touching you because you don't want it to end. I'm just making it last longer for you.”

Mahes couldn't seem to muster a response, and with that Bakari continued down, licking over his shaft, then lower to his balls as Mahes writhed against him, and then something told him to keep going even lower. He was soon glad he did, because when his tongue reached Mahes's hole, Mahes let out a surprised squeal of pleasure. Bakari swirled his tongue on the tender skin there until Mahes's thighs were shaking uncontrollably, his breathing so fast he was nearly hyperventilating, and then finally Bakari gave the area a few last flicks of his tongue before licking his way back up to the place Mahes needed him most.

He gave Mahes's shaft a few slow licks, taking a couple more moments to enjoy the sound of Mahes's cries of utter desperation, and then finally he swallowed Mahes's entire cock down in one quick motion, making Mahes moan out loud with relief and pleasure as he buried his hands in Bakari's hair and pulled hard. Bakari knew he'd already teased Mahes out of his mind, so he didn't start slow, but instead sucked vigorously, his lips sliding up and down with his tongue pushing against the sensitive tip, rubbing back and forth, until Mahes's body stiffened and he screamed as he released after less than a minute of Bakari's attention.

He came so much Bakari almost had trouble swallowing it, but he kept his head down and applied suction, working his throat until Mahes was completely spent, his body going slack underneath him.

Bakari sat up and wiped his mouth, looking down at Mahes, loving the sight of him still trembling, his eyes hazy and satisfied as he turned to Bakari with a smile.

“Gods, that was...oh, gods, Bakari.”

Bakari returned his smile and laid down next to him, gathering him into his arms. Mahes sighed and buried his face into Bakari's neck, pulling him closer. Mahes's breathing was still heavy, but Bakari could feel that his body was limp with complete satisfaction and relaxation.

Bakari let his hands drift over Mahes's skin, caressing his back, his hips, his shoulders, enjoying a rare moment when they could be so close without the skin to skin contact hurting Mahes and making him scoot away. Bakari was feeling charitable enough that he actually tried not to sound smug when he said, “Good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mahes sighed, snuggling in closer.

Mahes felt Bakari's hips twitching against him, but haltingly, as if he was trying to hold back. Normally, Mahes’s skin would tighten and he'd be in pain again a few minutes after his orgasm, but he was covered in the soothing oil and so the nearness of their bodies didn't chafe him. Besides, he was still feeling very good, his mind content and his body still buzzing with pleasant feelings. He could feel Bakari's hardness pressing against his stomach, and he rocked his hips against him, encouraging his movements.

“It's okay, it doesn't hurt.”

“Are you sure?” Bakari asked through gritted teeth, seeming as if he was at the edge of his ability to hold back and would need to move away immediately if the friction was going to irritate Mahes’s skin.

But Mahes nodded and grasped Bakari's hips, grinding their bodies together.

Bakari let out a little cry and squeezed Mahes tight, finally letting instinct overtake him as he began to thrust against him in earnest.

Mahes thought Bakari must have already been very worked up from what he'd done to him earlier, because after only a few minutes of Bakari's cock sliding against Mahes's oil-slick stomach, Mahes could already tell he was climbing.

Mahes searched out Bakari's lips with his own, and they kissed as Bakari neared release, Mahes swallowing his moan as he came and holding him close.

When he finally finished, Bakari dropped his head down onto Mahes's chest and waited for his breathing to slow. He thought about getting up and finding a cloth to clean them, but realized it would be futile, considering they were both covered in oil almost from head to toe. Besides, Bakari had enjoyed coming with their bodies pressed so near together, and wasn't eager to break the closeness.

Time passed, and Mahes still didn't pull away, and so for once they fell asleep with their bodies intertwined.

* * *

 

They ate dried fruit and nuts for breakfast, and then headed to the oasis to finally wash all the oil off of their skin. Bakari had thought Mahes might have been tired out from the night before, but he still got distracted from bathing by wanting to kiss and touch, which of course Bakari obliged.

Afterwards, they went to the market, because Mahes had been complaining that he was tired of eating only bread for dinner and wanted more cheese and maybe even some meat. Bakari didn't mind- he'd been robbing ever more luxurious tombs lately, so he had plenty of gold to pay for these expensive items.

Bakari no longer felt like ribbing him about wanting these things, as he had when Mahes had first discovered his love for cheese. Whatever communion Mahes had had with his soul, his ka, when they were training alone, it had obviously allowed Bakari's words to finally pierce his mind and make him understand that it wasn't wrong to steal riches from the dead elite who had hoarded wealth in life and wanted to still hoard that wealth even in death while the poor starved. As long as Mahes didn't scorn what he had to do to get the things that allowed them to survive, he didn't mind spending gold on luxuries at the market without comment to make their days more pleasant.

So they were cheerful as they rode Minkah back to their cave, and when they got home they cooked lunch and ate by the fire as they chatted about the day. When they were done and sated, Mahes went to his side of the cave and pulled out a small pot of paste he'd made by crushing coriander and lotus blossoms and mixing them with pure water.

“What's that?” Bakari asked.

“This is actually something I was planning to show you when you got home last night, until you distracted me and I forgot all about it.”

“I think you enjoyed being distracted.” Bakari shot him a satisfied smirk.

“I never said I didn't. But you know the reason I've always got my head buried in a scroll is because I'm trying to help you, right?”

“So that's for me?”

“Yeah, take off your robe and I'll show you.”

Bakari raised his eyebrows but slipped out of his robe, and Mahes brought out a brush and dipped it into the paste. “Turn around.”

Bakari did, and he shivered a bit as the cool paste touched his skin. Mahes carefully drew the Eye of Horus, whispering the words of the protection spell as he drew the curved lines.

“Alright, done,” Mahes said, admiring the perfectly drawn pale blue symbol that now adorned Bakari’s skin.

Bakari craned his neck around, futilely trying to see his own back. “So what did that do?”

“It will protect you,” Mahes said, his fingers trailing over Bakari's bare back. “Let me know if it works.”

“Well I guess if it doesn't, you'll know because I'll be dead.”

Mahes gave him a light slap on the arm. “Don't say things like that!”

“I have every confidence in your abilities.”

Bakari said it with a smirk, so Mahes wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic, but then Bakari turned to pull him close and kiss him, and he decided it didn't matter.


	12. Chapter 12

The scent of parsley was pungent in the air as they stooped down to gather the coriander seeds from the plants. Bakari felt Mahes’s presence behind him, but he pretended that he didn’t notice as he tied up the bag in which he stored the seeds they needed. Mahes wrapped his hands around Bakari’s eyes.

“What are you doing?” Bakari asked.

“You’re supposed to guess who’s behind you.”

“Mahes, you’re the only person I ever let get near me. Anyone else would find their throat slit.”

“Dammit, I know you know it’s me. You’re supposed to guess anyway so I can reward you for guessing correctly.”

“Well, I already said your name, so reward me.”

“I don’t know why I should. You’ve spoiled the whole fun of the game.” Mahes dropped his hands.

Bakari turned around, smirking. “Because you only thought up the game as an excuse.”

“It’s true.” Mahes grabbed Bakari’s hair and pulled him closer. “But next time play along.”

“Psh, I probably won’t.”

“No, you probably won’t,” Mahes agreed as he kissed Bakari.

Bakari allowed his head to tilt upward so that Mahes had a better angle. It still irritated him, how Mahes always slowed down their daily chores in order to kiss like fools, but he no longer had the will to stop it. When Mahes pulled away, Bakari licked his lips, hoping Mahes would kiss him again, but the bothersome spellcaster merely turned and finished filling his bag with coriander.

They rode Minkah back home and fed and watered the horse before lying down themselves to sleep off the hottest part of the day.

“You’re going tonight? Aren’t you? To rob the most recent Pharaoh’s tomb?” Mahes asked, nervous.

“Yes.”

“I- I know you have to, but…”

“I already explained to you why it has to be _him_.”

“I know, and I understand, but the traps will be much more complicated for a recently dead Pharaoh.”

“It’s true, but I told you, Pharaoh Atem needs to _know_ what it’s like, to have the body of his family desecrated- just like my family was desecrated.”

“I know,” Mahes snapped. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, okay?”

“Then help me.” Bakari sat up on his mat, looking down at Mahes. “With you and Shedu, I don’t see how I can fail.”

Mahes looked up at Bakari, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, I’ll help you rob one last tomb, and I’ll go with you to the palace- but only to protect you. I’m going to use Shedu’s powers to stay invisible the entire time and focus on protection spells.”

“Afraid to attack?” Bakari teased.

“It’s not that.” Mahes turned his head away. “But if I was recognized as a rogue tombkeeper…they’d kill my father. The punishment for dissent is the death of the entire clan- which is my father and I. And I know, I know he might deserve it, but-” Mahes shook his head. “I can’t, Bakari. I can’t let that happen to him. It’s bad enough he’s going to die drunk in that tomb one day, but let Ma’at judge him when he’s dead, not the Pharaoh.”

“Alright. It’s good enough that you’re with me, even only to protect me. Diabound should be strong enough to attack all the priests at once without much trouble.”

“But you know, if things get really dire- not that I think they will, I'm sure you can handle it- but if I really need to, I'll jump in and fight with you.”

On reflex, Bakari grabbed Mahes’s hand and squeezed it. Mahes gave him a questioning look and Bakari shrugged.

“I just wanted to say … I appreciate it, that you’re helping me. When I took you out of the tomb I really did feel sorry for you and wanted to help you, but I also wanted to help myself. I knew that you’d be powerful, and I thought that power would be an asset, but still, I also understand that you could have left when you found that out.”

“I was angry enough to. Maybe if I had somewhere else to go I would have considered it, but...I would have come back, I think.” Mahes winked. “You’re pretty hopeless without me.”

“I lived my entire life perfectly fine without you or anyone else!” Bakari argued. Then he sighed, staring at Mahes. “But I am glad you’re here- with me.”

“Yeah, I’m glad, too.”

Bakari laced their fingers together, drawing close. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Bakari.”

He obeyed, brushing their lips together. Mahes licked at Bakari’s lips, and Bakari opened his mouth to allow Mahes to slip his tongue fully inside. They kissed, and napped, and then woke up to kiss again. At nightfall, Bakari got up and prepared dinner- dried beef, beer, and coriander bread. He wanted to make sure they had plenty of energy for their ka when they attacked the palace.

Despite the advanced traps, it wasn’t difficult to reach Akhenamkhanen’s sarcophagus with the help of Diabound and Shedu. Bakari licked his lips when he saw the gold lined box adorned with jade and lapis lazuli.

“Filth,” Bakura muttered, glaring down at the golden face painted on the sarcophagus. “I've waited my whole life … for this small act of justice.”

Bakari kicked the sarcophagus. Mahes flinched; he’d spent too much of his life as a tomb guardian to feel the same kind of joy Bakari felt, but he didn't complain because he knew Akhenamkhanen had allowed the annihilation of Bakari's village and that Bakari had a right to his anger.

It didn't even shift. Bakari settled for shoving the heavy lid to the ground. He spit on the Pharaoh's face, sneering with a mix of rage and satisfaction.

“Help me tilt this.”

Mahes held his breath. Desecrating a Pharaoh's body was a sin, but so was stealing and he'd already accepted that he was a tomb robber. He had no intentions of leaving Bakari and repenting their life together. There was no reason to hesitate now, so he exhaled, stepped forward, and helped Bakari push the coffin until the mummy within tumbled to the stone floor.

That wasn’t enough. Bakura smashed the canopic jars against the tomb walls. As each jar crashed against the stone and shattered, Bakari threw back his head and cackled as if he couldn’t smell the strange mix of decay and spices that had Mahes wrinkling his nose.

Bakari next swaddled himself in jewels and gold, taking as much from the Pharaoh as he could drape over his body and putting more treasure still into an empty sack. Bakari walked up to Mahes, holding out his hand.

“Here. Take this.”

Mahes reached out his hand and Bakari dropped the protection amulet Mahes had made for him back into his own hands. Mahes couldn’t hide the hurt expression that lanced his face.

“Don’t look like that,” Bakari said. “I want you to hold it for safekeeping. I’ll have to dump all the treasure when the fighting starts and I don’t want to lose your gift when that happens.”

“It can’t protect you in my hands.” Mahes managed to cover up his expression and give Bakari a smooth, practical look. He hoped Bakari would see the logic to his words.

Unfortunately Bakari merely leaned in and rested the palm of his hand on Mahes’s face.

“I don’t need an amulet when I have you.”

Mahes couldn’t resist the kiss that followed, but it was too brief. Bakari pulled away and found a rope in order to leash the corpse at their feet.

“I’m ready to face the Pharaoh now.”

“Then let’s go.” Mahes nodded. “You won’t be able to see me, but I’ll be beside you.” Mahes grabbed Bakari’s face and kissed him again, passionately…desperately. “I’ll be beside you no matter what, and if we should somehow get separated, we’ll meet at the oasis, okay?”

“Don’t worry.” Bakari grinned, licking his lips. “What’s a pharaoh-god compared to us?”

Mahes snorted. “We’re about to find out.”

* * *

 

Bakari did ask them nicely, once, to return the Items to him, but fighting was inevitable. Mahes followed close behind him, invisible to everyone including Bakari. He couldn’t help glancing around the palace while the priests stood by in a state of shock over Bakari having even made it inside- although that was laughable. Mahes hadn’t even had to do anything to help Bakari against the guards. None of those men would have survived as tomb-guardians. Living in a palace instead of a tomb had made them all fat and weak.

Everything in the palace was grand to look at. The throne alone could feed multiple villages for several years. And if the Pharaoh’s power and authority came from the gods themselves, why did he need such a fancy chair? Mahes wrinkled his face in disgust. Bakari had been right about everything he'd said about the royal court, and it was infuriating.

He watched Bakari confront the priests with his usual verbal grace- or rather lack thereof. But it didn’t matter, Mahes realized. Even had Bakari been a great orator, the royal court would _not_ have listened.

Because Bakari was a thief.

They couldn’t see past that.

They couldn’t see how _they_ had created a kingdom where men had to become thieves, how their own sin caused others to sin.

Bakari explained, twice, that Diabound was a divine ka, but they refused to believe that a thief could have anything other than a dark ka. Mahes wanted to scream at them- for Bakari’s village, for his own father going insane in a dark tomb, for all the hungry children he saw each time they went to the market- but he stayed silent. They’d hate a tomb keeper who deserted his post more than they’d hate a thief, and Mahes was there to support Bakari, not scream politics at deaf ears.

He still clenched his jaw each time they referred to Diabound as a dark ka. Mahes, more than anyone else in the world, knew the difference. He’d spent the last few months slowly accepting that difference- that Shedu _wasn’t_ an evil ka, that he _was_ good- just as Diabound was good. He and Bakari stole, but they stole to live. Bakari desecrated the Pharaoh’s corpse, but only because his people were first desecrated. It was Ma’at. It was balance, and that was divine. It’s how Diabound was able to grow so strong _despite_ Bakari’s hatred- not because of it. The royal court believed they could still have divine ka themselves in spite of the atrocities they'd committed and allowed, but were convinced the ka of a thief had to be evil. The hypocrisy was absurd.

“What is ’evil’?” Mahes heard Bakari say. “If I’m loyal to what _you_ say is right, is that all it takes to make me ‘good’?”

Bakari was right. Who was the evil one? Bakari for stealing from the dead? Or the royal court that would sacrifice an entire village for the power of what they called “holy” relics? Bakari was also right when he went on to explain to the priests that the artifacts were dark, that they had an evil power, and Mahes knew why it must be true- they couldn't be a force for good, considering the evil act that created them.

But the priests ignored that too, and then the fighting started. Set was ruthless in his attacks, but Diabound was stronger. Mahes watched without intervening. It wasn’t until Bakari fought all six priests at once that Mahes stood back against a pillar and chanted protection spells while Bakari fought.

Because of Mahes’ spells, some attacks missed Bakari, some did less damage than they should have, and Bakari’s ba stayed replenished while those of the priests began to tire. Chunks of stone littered the palace floor as dust scattered into the air. The priests looked as wrecked as the palace, sweating and puffing for breath as they over-exerted themselves.

But then Atem summoned a god. An actual god. Mahes stood in shock and awe as he saw the huge, all-consuming form of Obelisk looming in front of him. It took all his concentration and a large amount of heka for Mahes to reduce the damage of Obelisk’s blow to Bakari and Diabound.

Mahes sighed in relief when Bakari decided to retreat. He disappeared through the walls while Mahes and Shedu simply walked calmly out the front door. He followed Bakari to a cliff far away from the city. Bakari stood and stared at the palace. The wind blew his scarlet cloak back and away from his body.

“This is the prelude to the _fall_ of your dynasty.” Bakari laughed. “Just you wait. One thief will start a war!”

“Just one, huh?” Mahes asked, standing behind Bakari.

Bakari spun around, grinning when he saw that Mahes was there. “You’re not really a thief. You’ve never had any passion for it.”

“I’ve stolen with you more than enough to damn my soul.”

“I see the way you grimace whenever we put something into a bag. Part of you will always be a tomb guardian.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Mahes agreed, but then his eyes narrowed. “So you're going to rule the world, huh?”

“ _We’re_ going to the rule the world...if you still want to be by my side. We can't just leave the throne empty and let the next greedy bastard available take over the Pharaoh’s palace and cause _more_ tragedies. If _we_ control the throne, _we_ can distribute everything evenly. No more beggars and merchants. Just people.”

Mahes mulled over the concept. It made sense. “I imagine that it can’t be as easy as that.”

“I never said it’d be easy,” Bakari argued. “Then again, nothing in my life has been. Still, complaining about the world is useless unless we’re willing to fight for change.”

“But … you mentioned dark powers during the fight. And I know you're right, I know those Items have to be evil.”

Bakari nodded. “It’s like I told the pharaoh. The Items are a compass to one’s soul. They feed off the darkness in men’s hearts- but since I’m doing what’s right I don’t have to worry about it.” Bakari clenched his hands into fists. “I don’t plan on using the Items for personal gain. I’m going to create a world where children don’t get locked up in tombs and villages don’t get burned.”

Mahes laid his hand on Bakari’s shoulder.

“ _We’re_ going to- I’m right here beside you.” Mahes sighed. “But please, be careful. When you do get your hands on the Items...just remember that messing with a dark power is dangerous. You might think you can control it, but if you're not careful, it will control you. The last thing you want is to become corrupted, like those you hate.”

Bakari laced their fingers together. “Good thing I have you here to make sure my heart’s always balanced on Ma’at’s scales.”

Mahes smiled, and squeezed Bakari’s hands. “Come on. I’ll use Shedu’s powers to make sure no one can follow us home. We should recover if we’re going to avenge your people and change the world.”

* * *

 

Three days later, Bakari walked around the cave. He filled a sack with dry food store: a chunk of bread, a few dates, and enough garlic to make Mahes wrinkle his nose.

Mahes deliberately kissed Bakari _before_ he had a chance to eat any of the garlic. “Heading out?”

“It’s been three days. I’m going to go out and do reconnaissance to see how much security has increased since our last attack.”

“Alright.” Mahes nodded. “Let’s go.”

“You should stay here,” Bakari said. “It’ll be easier for me to sneak around on my own.”

“It’ll be easier for you to sneak around if you’re invisible.”

“That’s true, but using Shedu’s special ability like that puts a constant strain on you, and I don't want you to be tired if I need your help.”

“I’ve had plenty of time to recover since our last battle.”

“But if you wear yourself out now, we’ll have to wait for you to recover again before we can attack, and by then we’ll have to scout all over again. It makes more sense for me to sneak out on my own. As soon as I figure out what our next move is I’ll come get you and we’ll go out together.” Bakari kissed Mahes’s forehead. “I promise I’ll return.”

“You’d better keep that promise.” Mahes smirked.

Without thinking about it, they drew together. Their lips merged as if neither Mahes nor Bakari had any control over it. The kiss was sweet, far too sweet, and Bakari could no longer deny to himself how strongly he felt for Mahes, even if he couldn't voice it.

Instead, he said, “I'll be going to the other end of the Valley of the Kings, where Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen’s tomb is. You can help me best by staying here and preparing as many protection spells as you think we’ll need when we go back the palace. It shouldn't take me too long to look around and figure out the best plan for us. Then I'll come back here to get you. And then I'll want us to head out right away.”

Mahes nodded. “Alright, just be careful.” Mahes kissed him again, and then Bakari finally managed to tear himself away, grabbing his bag and giving Mahes’s cheek one last stroke with the tips of his fingers before turning to leave.

He reached the tomb without incident, but once he got there, his hackles raised and instinct told him to dart behind a large outcropping of rock. It took a moment for his mind to catch up to his body, but he soon realized that his senses were telling him that it was a trap.

Once he thought about it, it made sense. One of the priests would be lying in wait for him. They would want to come after Bakari, to try to punish him for what he'd done at the palace, so it was no surprise that one would want to hunt Bakari down on his own.

He knew Mahes wouldn't want him to walk into a trap, especially not by himself. Mahes would want Bakari to come back and get him before engaging in a dangerous battle.

But a priest would have an Item, and that meant Bakari could fight him and take what was rightfully his. And the priest would be on his own this time, without the pharaoh and his god and the other priests to protect him, and he wouldn't suspect that Bakari knew about the trap. Bakari would have the advantage. He could fight him, and he'd win, and then he'd have the first of the seven Items that belonged to him because they were created from the flesh and souls of his people.

He needed that Item. Gaining it would bring them that much closer to achieving their goals. Bakari couldn’t help smiling at the thought of Mahes and himself being able to build a better world together, and with the Pharaoh finally dead, his people would be avenged and Bakari could focus on living his own life, free from the wailing of ghosts seeking justice.

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

So Bakari sat, hidden, gathering his will and preparing himself for the battle to come.


	13. Chapter 13

Bakari struggled through the tiny trap door, twisting and contorting his body in order to fit. Bruised and beaten as he was, he felt no pain in the moment; he had just completed the first true step in his quest for justice, and the adrenaline from his hard-fought battle was still coursing through his veins. He gave one more sharp turn of his torso, and his hips popped free. A moment later, he landed heavily on his back in the sand outside of the sealed tomb. He clutched the Ring to his chest, his fingers curling around its smooth gold surface, and then he began laughing. He laughed up at the sky, the sound echoing through the valley as he relished this small victory.

He felt...righteous. He was sure he was destined to win- destined by the gods, who would see justice served. It had to be the case- the priest at the palace earlier had been wrong; Diabound wasn’t a demon. He'd told Mahes that himself many times. He was a divine ka, a ka of the light, and could only be called forth by one who was true of heart. And his ka had been stronger than all of theirs, which meant his purpose was more pure.

At least, Diabound was stronger than the others until that damned pharaoh had managed to summon an actual god, which was basically cheating. Not that Bakari ought to have expected anything else. Bakari liked to win fairly and to lose fairly, but it didn't surprise him a bit that the pharaoh didn't have that sort of integrity.

Still, though, Diabound had bested all the others, overpowering each of their ka, proving his cause was just. He wondered if the priest’s words about ka had bothered them, if they wondered how such a powerful force of good could be inside a mere thief, an enemy of the palace, a person they had been told was evil. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. Probably not. They'd come up with some way to justify it in their minds, some way to continue to paint him as nothing but an immoral criminal, even when proof to the contrary was right in front of their faces. They'd continue telling themselves his ka was dark, corrupted- they'd ignore his assertion that Diabound was divine ka, even though the truth in his words was obvious. He didn't know why he'd even bothered to argue with them about the concepts of justice and good and evil- they, who could murder any number of innocents in order to continue their lives of opulence and luxury, and still manage to tell themselves it was all for the greater good.

It didn't matter, though, he thought, as he pulled the Ring closer to his chest, his fingers tightening around it. He would win; he would avenge his people. He'd already defeated one of the priests and gotten the Ring from him, and soon enough the other Items would be taken from those who would use his people's ashes as instruments of oppression-

_You will not win._

Bakari started, jumping to his feet at the sound of the ominous voice that echoed in his mind. He looked around, seeing only rocks and sand.

It didn't take him long to understand. This was the dark presence that resided in all the Items, the one he'd tried to warn the priests about, the one that must exist due to the evil act that had been necessary to create the Items.

“I wouldn't believe anything said by a demon,” he scoffed.

_I am no demon. I am much more than that. I am a god. And I know you will lose. You will die._

“We shall see.”

_By then it will be too late. For you. You'll be ashes like your family, and they will go unavenged, their spirits trapped and tormented for all time._

“Quiet, demon!” Bakari spat, thrusting the Ring away from him. “You have nothing of use to me.”

_Oh, but I do. You fight alone. You will always be alone. But with me-_

_I'm not alone,_ Bakari thought, and then for a moment he seemed to feel something searching through his mind.

_Him? He will die as well._

“You’re underestimating him.” Bakura grit his teeth.

_He is mortal. He will die. You will as well. But such doesn't have to be the case. I can help you._

Bakari growled but didn't respond as he started walking back to the cave. Mahes would be worried by now.

_He is irrelevant. He cannot change the course of your final battle with the pharaoh. And it will be your final battle. You will fail, you will die, and the hope of your people will be lost._

Bakari still didn't deign to respond and picked up his pace.

_What if you're wrong? Can you afford it if I speak the truth? You have already lost once, resorting to retreat. You could not defeat them._

“Shut up, you filthy demon,” Bakari muttered. The eldritch voice of the demon was truly starting to grate on him- it sickened him that the graves of his people were polluted with such a malicious evil. He felt as if having the presence in his mind was wearing him down, making him feel weaker in some essential way.

Suddenly Bakari cried out as his head was filled with a vision, so bright and so hot that it made him feel as though his skull would split. He saw it all- his next battle with the pharaoh, his defeat, his death, and then the eternally wailing souls of his people, never to be freed. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed with pain and what felt like a rending of his mind. He was being torn apart and still it didn't stop; he saw it again and again- defeat, death, failure, the never ending agony of his family, all while the pharaoh and his corrupt priests lived on in prosperity, scorning his name.

Finally the horrible scenes dissipated, and he slowly began to regain control of his own thoughts. He found himself on his back in the sand again. He didn't know how much time had passed, but his skin was hot from the sun and it had felt as if the torment had lasted for hours. He was clutching the Ring so tightly that his knuckles were white, and he had it pressed against his chest again.

He snarled when he heard the foreboding voice of the demon cut into his mind again. He felt as if its claws were inside his flesh, tearing at his guts.

 _What if you're wrong?_ It said again. _Can you afford it if I'm right? I ask for so little in return for my help…_

Bakari wanted to ignore the voice, but the vision he had been given had a feeling of _truth_ to it that he couldn't deny. What if the demon was right? What if he was going to lose, and this was his only chance to change things?

“What do you want from me?” It couldn't hurt to find out.

_Almost nothing. Just let me share your power. That's all. And then you can use my power as well. Together we will be stronger. And you will be immortal. You may still lose the coming battle, but instead of meeting death, you will go on, and with my help you will exact your rightful vengeance in the future._

_Mahes would kill me if I let a demon help me, or used its power,_ Bakari thought. _The way he feels about demons...he’d be furious._

_Is that your only issue? I can help him as well. I can make him immortal. You can both be immortal. You will never have to lose anyone again._

Bakari felt the horrible vision on the edge of his mind again, though this time it was muted and seemed far away- yet still, there was that ring of truth. He knew he shouldn't make a deal with a being of evil. He still wanted to believe that he and Mahes could win on their own. But if he was wrong and the vision was true...his people...his lifelong quest...if he failed…if Mahes died with him…he couldn’t let Mahes die...

_Let me in, let me in, let me in._

To use a demon for his own benefit just once...if his cause was just…surely if his cause was just...

_Be in me. Let me be in you._

He felt so tired. Somehow, he had gone to his knees again. Sweat rolled down his face, dripped from his hair. His eyes stung, his head swam, his breath felt like it was fading, like a soul with a forgotten ren. Something wasn’t quite right, but Bakari couldn’t think clearly.

_Let me in, let me in._

The only thoughts in Bakari’s head were that he couldn’t lose, and he couldn’t lose Mahes.

_Be in me. Let me be in you. Let. Me. In._

And Bakari did.

* * *

 

Mahes sat with crossed legs near the entrance of the cave as he waited for Bakari to return from his reconnaissance. To pass the time he wove a circlet of purple-bloomed parsley. Mahes planned on presenting the crown to Bakari the moment he returned- declaring that the King of Thieves needed a crown if he wanted people to take him seriously. Mahes laughed to himself as the scene played out in his imagination, the way Bakari would huff and complain that Mahes needed to be more serious, the way Bakari would take the crown anyway despite the fact that he’d think the joke wasn’t funny.

And it was a waste of time to weave a flower crown when they should be focusing on the upcoming battles, but he'd already finished preparing all the protection spells they'd need, so there was nothing for Mahes to do in the cave. And honestly, he missed Bakari when the thief was away. That’s why, as soon as he saw Bakari heading up the path to their mountain home, Mahes jumped up, crown still in hand, and ran to meet his partner. Mahes started laughing as he ran. He couldn’t help it. He was happy to see Bakari and eager to give him his mock gift and start an argument that was sure to be amusing for both of them.

“Hey Bakari! Look at-”

The crown dropped from Mahes’s hand, and he stopped running.

“B-Bakari?” Mahes stared. Something looked wrong, so wrong, but he couldn’t quite place it.

It wasn’t any one specific thing, but rather several small details that just felt… _off_ , like a jar of wine that wasn’t yet vinegar, but neither was it as sweet as it once was.

His arms hung at his sides, as if Bakari had forgotten they were attached to him, and his gait was just a little stiff- just a little, hardly noticeable, but Mahes noticed, because Mahes _knew_ him.

“Are you hurt?” Mahes ran faster to meet Bakari on the path.

“No. In fact, I’ve never felt this strong.” Bakari grinned, and something about this grin reminded Mahes so much of the tomb that used to trap him that he shuddered.

They stood face to face. Neither attempted to embrace the other. Mahes’s eyes flickered across Bakari’s countenance, searching for the answer to a question he didn’t quite dare ask. He wondered if maybe Bakari had been drugged, or fallen victim to a curse. Then something at Bakari’s chest flashed gold in the sunlight, and Mahes saw the strange necklace around his neck for the first time.

“Bakari…is that?”

“Yes,” he said, but it was almost a hiss. “The Millennium Ring.”

“I don’t like it. Take it off.”

“What?” Bakari blinked, coming back to himself somewhat. “Are you crazy? I need this to help me defeat the Pharaoh.”

“I know we need the Items, but you don’t have to wear it, right? You just need to put them back in the Tablet, so your village can rest. Take it off. It makes me feel sick.”

“Don’t be a fool. This is going to help us win.” Bakari wrapped his scarlet cloak around the gold ring to hide it.

“Bakari. I don’t like it. Take it off.” Mahes’s chest felt tight, and the air around them felt too thin to breathe. Something was _wrong_ with Bakari.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”

“What happened? How’d you even get the Ring? I thought you were doing reconnaissance only. I was supposed to fight with you!”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Bakari said. “But Priest Mahad set up a trap. I had no choice but to fight. But look-” Bakari pulled out the Ring again, cradling it in his hands as gently as he cradled Mahes’s face when they kissed. “Now I have the Ring, and the Power within it can make us immortal!”

“Immortal? What Power?” Mahes was shrieking now, panicked. He didn’t have any good reason for it, but his instincts had the fine hairs on the back of his neck raised and his heart stumbling in his chest.

“There’s…a force. In the Ring. It promised to help us in exchange for me allowing it inside-”

“Are you possessed?!” Mahes stepped back. His eyes started to burn and a sharp pain shot throughout his entire body, pooling at his fingertips and making them ache.

“I did it for us, so we can win.”

“How _dare_ you! How _dare you!_ ” Mahes spun around and sprinted up the trail and back to their cave.

Inside, Mahes crashed down to the reed mat that they shared at night. Tears streaked his face. His scars itched and burned. He wasn’t sure if he’d hurt himself somehow running, or if it was just the memories of cleansing ritual after cleansing ritual causing them to burn with old phantom fires. All that pain because his father didn’t know the difference between a ka and a demon. And here was Bakari, _willingly_ letting a real demon use him like a pawn in a game of sennet, as if it was no different than getting help from any other kind of power. But Bakari knew what the Power inside the Items was, he knew it was evil.

Did he really expect Mahes to let a demon inside himself too, to actually make himself what he'd spent his entire life fearing he was, and hating himself for? But Bakari had already done that to himself, and now Bakari was...

“Mahes.” Bakari reached out a hand to comfort him, but Mahes flinched away.

“Don't touch me,” Mahes cried. “Bakari, I can’t bear this. I can’t.”

“I did it for you! For us! So we can win! So you don’t die if we lose! Because …” Bakari dropped to his knees behind Mahes. “Because I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved in my entire life…I can’t lose you too. I...” He couldn’t finish the last sentence.

“Prove it,” Mahes said, his voice strained and hoarse.

“What?”

“You were going to say you love me, right?” Mahes turned because he wanted to see Bakari’s face as he answered. His eyes were still colored like opals, but all the light had gone from them.

Bakari looked away and nodded.

“If you love me, prove it,” Mahes repeated.

“How?”

“Let me give you a test.”

“A test?”

“Yes. Go. Fight the Pharaoh again. I won't be coming with you this time. I've robbed tombs for you, risked my life for your cause, turned my back on my duties, but I won't fight alongside a demon, and I won't let an evil force inside me- you should know that. So go, and while you’re gone I’ll cast a spell that will test you. It should be easy, right? To pass any test I set. If you really love me and if the demon isn’t really controlling you.”

Bakari hardened his jaw line and clenched his fist. “Fine. Stay here where it's safe. Give me your test, and have no doubt that I’ll pass it, and when I come back- victorious against the Pharaoh- you’ll see that I did the right thing.” Bakari stormed out of the cave, leaving Mahes alone with his tears.

Mahes then succumbed to the heartache coursing through him like poison. He curled in a ball, and wept until he made himself sick. After he calmed down enough to breathe, he fetched papyrus and ink and began to write the spell even as tears continued to course down his cheeks.

He took great care with the spell, infusing it with all the _heka_ he could summon. As Mahes wrote, he couldn’t help but remember Shedu and Diabound playing in the valley together.

He was going to miss that.

And brushing, feeding, and riding Minkah, and bathing with Bakari in the Oasis, and holding hands and kissing until the stars shifted across the sky and the pit-fire burned down to embers beside them.

Mahes’s hand shook, but he made careful strokes of his ink brush to ensure nothing went wrong. Once the spell was created, he read it out loud to activate it.

 _Let my ib be bound to yours; let your ba be bound to mine._  
_They are drawn together always; they will reunite; let nothing prevent it._  
_The trial we take is this; I trust we overcome:_  
_Let my ren be no more, and your ren be no more._  
_I do not know you, nor you me._  
_We forget, never to remember, save the day the ruler of your ib is cast aside so that you may embrace my ib instead._  
_If this shall be fulfilled, then let us be bound together for all time, never to be separated._  
_In exchange I offer this sacrifice:_  
_What has happened before will once again. I will endure the sufferings of this life anew._  
_I call on Thoth to grant me this._  
_Let it be done._

It wasn’t going to be easy, Mahes knew. The demon wouldn’t want to let Bakari go...Mahes was simply going to have to trust that Bakari’s own spirit was stronger and one day he’d choose Mahes over his vengeance. But Mahes had to find out for sure, he had to know.

Mahes stood up, raised his hood over his head to hide his hair, and packed two bags full of supplies and valuables to use as currency. He left his spells behind. He wouldn’t need them anymore. As he left the cave for the last time, Mahes searched for the flower crown he’d made, but he never saw it. It must have fallen down to the valley below. Mahes sighed and continued to walk towards the nearest town.

By the time he reached the town, he couldn’t remember what made him decide to travel there, or where he could go otherwise. He couldn’t remember much of anything…including his own name.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ancient Egyptians believed there were several parts to the soul, including the ren (name) and ba (individual self/personality) and ib (heart.) So hopefully Mahes's spell makes sense with that information.


	14. Chapter 14

His existence shrank to a single point: revenge. Kill the Pharaoh, _hurt everyone that hurt him_. And if, in the back of his mind, he realized that he wasn’t quite sure who _him_ used to be, then he did not have time to think of it, think of why he could remember that he was a thief from a village of thieves, but not remember his own name. There was no need to remember his name, was there? Because now he shared a more powerful name with a dark god. He was Zorc, and he wanted the Items to open the Door to Darkness. But he failed, and the Ring drank in his soul and held it inside its golden heart.

_See? I kept my word. You haven’t died. You’ll continue to exist until you can resume our battle with The Pharaoh._

But something felt wrong.

_My power is all you need. It’s the only way to obtain your vengeance._

But something was missing.

_You’ll get used to not having a body, and the Ring will choose a new vessel for you to use when it’s time._

Despite the demon’s assurances, his soul felt like a song that had lost all its lyrics over time and become nothing more than a melody hummed by a ghost in a forgotten, burned village.

So the thief waited, waited in the darkness of the Ring, nameless, deathless, waiting for his chance at vengeance. Thousands of years passed. Finally, there was a host. He began his quest to collect the Items again.

* * *

 

Marik screamed as the knife carved into his flesh, screamed until his throat was raw. Although the knife only tore the flesh in his back, everything burned, everything from his collarbone, to his wrists, to his ankles. He couldn’t explain the phantom pain covering and overlapping his body as if he were going through multiple initiations all at once. Marik gnawed on the bit in his mouth, drool leaking down his chin and tears leaking down his cheeks.

It would not have comforted him if he'd known that he'd chosen this for himself, thousands of years ago when he'd cast a spell and took on the burden of suffering through the same tragedies he had in his last life in exchange for a day in the future when a white haired thief would step in front of his motorcycle. The future was too far away and unseen while the past was lost. For Marik, there was only the moment, and the moment was sheer, hopeless, burning agony.

* * *

 

Bakura had no idea why he was even entertaining another request from this brat- this kid named Marik. Marik had promised him the Rod days ago, and had failed to deliver, continuing to ask more and more of Bakura in exchange, all the while denying him what he owed him.

Bakura didn't know why he'd even tolerated _that_. Marik had already backed out of the deal they'd made when they first met, and yet Bakura just kept letting himself get sucked in deeper, agreeing to all of his demands despite getting nothing in return. It wasn't like him. He was unsure as to why he was doing it, and he didn't like to admit to himself that there was something about this kid that made him want to help him, to go along with what he wanted, despite getting no benefits in return. Maybe it was just that he admired his tenacity, and his hatred for the pharaoh. That was certainly something Bakura could understand and respect.

But enough was enough. It was Marik’s fault that Bakura had to take a hit from Slifer, Marik’s fault that Bakura’s host’s body was lying beneath the cool white sheets of a medical ward bed, unconscious. Bakura shouldn't even be listening to yet another request for a favor from the brat who had given him nothing so far.

But then, he _had_ brought the Ring back to him. Bakura told himself that this was why he was standing in his soul room and listening to yet another ridiculous request from the kid.

“So, let me get this straight,” Bakura said, tapping his foot impatiently and glaring at Marik, whose essence had materialized in the expanse of gray of Bakura’s soul room, standing across from him. “You want me to risk myself- my soul, the body of my host, and my Ring- in order to fight in a duel against some alter ego of yours?”

“Hey, you said you were immortal. You're always going on about that. So it's not really a risk, right?” Marik asked.

Bakura tried not to roll his eyes. “We went over this. If the body of my landlord is destroyed, I'll be trapped in an Item again, and who knows when or if I'd ever get out. My plans have been three thousand years in the making. I can't afford to miss my chance because I'm trapped in a damn hunk of gold. This whole thing is very time sensitive. Even being trapped for a few weeks could make me miss my chance. Remember? I literally just explained to you that this was why I wouldn't risk my host body in that duel against the pharaoh like you wanted me to.”

Marik threw up his hands. “The pharaoh probably wouldn't even have attacked! He wouldn't have killed your host; Ryou is Yugi’s friend. You could have won! If you had just listened to me...seriously, you do everything else I ask of you, you even started to do that, but then at the last second you change your mind? You'd think taking a tiny risk that you might lose your body would be worth it to you to beat the pharaoh, if you hate him as much as you say you do.”

“Well, you can see that it wasn't, since I wouldn't do it. Yet you think I'll be willing to take that risk just to help you?” Bakura shook his head, unable to believe the gall of this kid.

“Not just to help me. I'll give you the Rod in exchange.” Marik looked at him, imploring.

Bakura barked out a laugh. “Even if for some insane reason I believed you'd stick to that promise this time when you never have before, if my understanding is correct, the Rod isn't even in your possession right now. The other you, or whoever it is that has currently taken over your body, has it now.”

Marik didn't hesitate with his answer. It seemed he always had a retort. “Yes, but if you beat him, he'll disappear, he’ll go to the shadows and my body will be destroyed, so you can just walk over and pick up the Rod.”

“And so why shouldn't I just duel him for the Rod, instead of risking myself in a game where the loser will be destroyed? Or maybe I ought to try to make a deal with him- I don't see how he could be any less reliable than you.” Bakura smirked as he saw how Marik winced at that, then thought of something else. “And wait...you also want me to go save your brother before the duel? Where exactly is my motivation for that?”

But Marik wasn't done trying to bargain; Bakura couldn't seem to throw him off his game. “Alright, not only will you get the Rod...I'll also show you the secret on my back, the eighth key that you need to open the dark door, the one I told you about when we met. You can't complete your plans without that.”

“From the moment you told me about that, I haven't been sure whether to believe you about its existence. But let's say it's true.” Bakura thought for a moment. “You say it's on your back? Doesn't that mean that you don't currently possess the secret, either? Isn't it on the back of your body, which your alternate personality currently possesses? Hm, a deal with him is looking better and better…”

 _Do it_.

Bakura ignored the voice reverberating in his soul. He still wanted to hear how Marik was going to justify his ridiculous request.

Marik looked stricken. “I mean, technically, yes, it's on his back right now, but-”

Bakura cut him off with a laugh. He laughed and laughed, unable to contain it considering the absolute ridiculousness of the situation. Finally he sobered and said, “So wait...this means if I win against him, I'll be destroying the secret I need, since your body will be destroyed. And if I lose I won't get to see it anyways and will also lose my body and be trapped in an Item. Exactly _what_ is supposed to be in this for me?”

_You cannot possibly be considering-_

“No, wait-” Marik said quickly, his eyes darting back and forth. Bakura could tell he was actually starting to panic now, and he smirked. “I might- I might be able to show it to you like this, in a soul room.”

“Alright, go ahead.” Bakura cocked his head and gave Marik an expectant look.

Marik’s eyes widened. “Just like that? You want me to…”

“Now seems like the best time, yes,” Bakura said. “Then at least I can be sure I get something out of this...the secret now, and the Rod when I win.”

“I- I mean...I could show it to you any time, it's not like I'm going anywhere, if you succeed in destroying my body I won't really have anyplace else to go…” Marik hugged himself, pressing his shirt closer to his body.

Bakura gaped at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? So if I win I'm stuck with you in my head forever? I swear, every time you open your mouth you make this deal sound worse and worse!”

He felt Zorc bristling inside him, his impatience adding to Bakura’s, making him feel entitled to the secret Marik bore. After all he’d put up with from Marik, he deserved some form of payoff.

“That's not really the point-” Marik started, but Bakura cut him off.

“Fine, the point is the secret, right? I'm certainly not going to wait to see it. That's completely unreasonable. You just said yourself that you're not even sure if it's possible! What am I supposed to do, wait until I win and just hope that it's possible and that you actually hold up your end of a deal for once?”

_He will not do it. He’s toying with you. Go find the other one. Strike a better deal._

Bakura really didn't know why he was still wasting time even talking about this. He was curious as to what Marik would say next, that was all.

“Alright...alright. I see your point. I know I have to make this worth your while. I can do this. I'll just…” Marik paused, and reached for the hem of his too-revealing shirt. But instead of pulling it over his head, he just stood and fidgeted with it.

The pale purple silk glimmered as if catching light, only there was no light in Bakura’s soul room, only a gray, bleak expanse. Bakura swallowed…something about the color. It reminded him of coriander blossoms, but he wasn’t sure why those weeds were something he’d ever care to remember.

_We don’t have time to waste with this inconvenience. Make him follow through or tell him no._

After a minute or so of watching Marik fidget, Bakura raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? You must not be as desperate as you sounded when you first came to me. You'd better show me that secret, because you have no other options. Don't you want to save your brother?”

“Hey, I have other options!” Marik said defensively. Bakura couldn't believe he was still arguing, still trying to needle him, even at a time like this. It was almost...admirable. “I could ask my sister! Or even Yugi, or his friends; I saw my sister telling them about my situation and they seemed willing enough to help…”

“So why are you even here? Go to them. Hell, you even could have brought them the Ring as a show of good faith, but you chose to bring it back to me.”

Marik looked abashed for a moment, but then said, “That's right, I brought you the Ring, you owe me!”

Bakura smirked. “Too bad it's already in my possession, so it's too late for you to use it as leverage.”

“Well, I kind of had to give it to you or you wouldn't be able to do what I'm asking…”

But with Marik stalling and Zorc growling in the depths of his mind, Bakura’s patience for this argument was really starting to wane, and he disregarded Marik’s pointless change of subject. “Does literally any of this have a point? Show me the secret or get out of my head.”

Marik sighed and gripped the edge of his shirt again. But again he hesitated, and Bakura could see the agony in his eyes- eyes that also reminded Bakura of coriander blossoms. Not that he cared, but he was curious what it was all about. “So you trust me enough to come to me above anyone else, but not enough to show me that secret? What is it you're afraid will happen when you show me?”

“It's not that...it’s…” But Marik cut himself off and reached for his shirt again. He really didn't have a choice. He had nothing else to offer, and if he didn't do this, Rishid would be dead, and his dark personality would be free to run wild with his body, hurting as many people as he wanted. Marik sighed. “Despite our strange partnership, you’re the only one I trust enough to show. Just…I’m working up to it, okay?”

But before Marik could remove his shirt, Bakura’s mind was suddenly flooded with memories that weren’t his. He wasn't sure whether Marik actually meant to do it, or if it was just the stress of the situation and it had happened on accident, but suddenly he was aware of a child locked underground his whole life, a prisoner of serving the pharaoh, and that child's back was being sliced open over hours of torture, scarring him, leaving him with wounds that would pain him for his entire life, and once the vision was gone it took Bakura several moments to get his bearings.

Bakura stared at him, understanding now that the secret on his back was made up of scars that were deeply personal, understanding why he'd be reluctant to show them to anyone.

Marik stumbled backwards, his eyes going round, and Bakura realized then that he hadn't meant to show him any of that, that the mind link had been accidental.

Marik was shaking then, and dropped to his knees. Bakura didn't think about what he was doing when he went to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, it's alright. You don't have to show me. I'll help you.”

_What!_

Marik's face looked as incredulous as Bakura felt. He had no idea why he'd said that. There was nothing in this for him. There was no reason not to make Marik show him the secret. If he lost, it would be devastating. He could lose the chance at the vengeance he'd been chasing for thousands of years. And even if he won, there was no guarantee he'd get anything out of it, not if he didn't at least insist on the secret being revealed to him first.

But something about this insufferable brat, something about Marik- something about his determination, something about the familiar way the cut of his hair rested on his shoulders, something about his history of suffering that Bakura could relate to all too much, something about the way Marik’s smirk reminded Bakura of a dream he’d forgotten thousands of years ago, something about his damn _arrogance_ and the fire in his spirit in the face of all his suffering, went straight to Bakura’s long-dead heart, and all he wanted to do was protect him, and help him, and consequences be damned, even if it meant Bakura could lose his chance at vengeance, and what the hell was he even thinking?

Marik looked up at him and seemed to suck in a sharp breath, and Bakura felt that if he had a body at the moment his cheeks would be heating up, because he could tell Marik had heard everything he'd just been thinking.

“But…your vengeance?” he muttered.

 _Your vengeance!_ Zorc shrieked.

“I’m not giving up, I’m just-” Bakura held his breath, fighting against Zorc’s snarls and complaints. He grit his teeth.

Then Marik's expression softened, and Bakura somehow suddenly knew that his own history, his own tragic past, had been transferred to Marik's mind, just as unwillingly as Marik's had been transferred to his. He looked away, angry at having been exposed, and feeling too vulnerable.

But he could still feel Marik's emotions, his sympathy washing over him. He would have gasped if he'd been in control of a pair of lungs at the moment. Though he'd only known Marik for a short time, the direct mind to mind connection and the sharing of each other's deepest secrets made Bakura feel as if he and Marik had known each other for lifetimes, or at least one rich and spectacular lifetime, and he felt breathless with it.

When he finally looked back, he saw Marik staring at him with a look of shock- almost awe- on his face.

“That's...that's what you're fighting for? I didn't know...and you're willing to help me? Even at the expense of…I don’t understand why you’d find me more important than…why you’d…choose me...over your hatred.”

Bakura looked away from him again, embarrassed. He tried to play the moment off by joking, “Maybe it’s just because you’re beautiful.”

Then there was a flash of light in the soul room, and they both jerked their heads up, feeling magic crackling in the air, seeing gold and silver sparks bounding across the gray expanse, neither knowing it was the product of an ancient spell having finally been completed, but they felt it, something locking into place, something lost being returned.

It happened for Marik first.

As the magic dissipated, it seemed a brightness came into Marik's lilac eyes, and he gaped at Bakura for a moment before leaping towards him without warning.

“Oh...oh, Bakari. I knew it. I knew you would.”

Bakura caught Marik in his arms before he even knew what was happening, but then it came to him. Their past, their ka, that last moment when he’d left the cave without knowing he’d lose the most precious person he’d ever known. But now Bakura had him again, right in his arms, his Mahes, his tomb guardian that didn’t like to steal but did so multiple times for Bakura’s- no, Bakari’s- sake.

Bakura looked at him, his dark eyes becoming soft and warm as they filled with recognition. “Hey, beautiful. It's been a long time.”

They kissed then, clinging and desperate. When they finally broke apart, Marik gave him a mock frown and said, “Took you long enough.”

“So I guess I passed your test?” Bakura asked with a sheepish smile.

“Yes. You finally put me above your vengeance.”

“That's what your spell required me to do?” Bakura chuckled. “Risky move.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Marik said with a smile.

“I told you I'd pass.” Bakura gave him a smug grin.

“Yeah, and it only took you, what, three thousand years?” Marik shot back. “Record time.”

“Hey, I just met you like two days ago!” Bakura exclaimed. “Before a couple days ago, I hadn't even seen you in three thousand years!”

“I guess you have a point.” Marik shrugged. He was too giddy with newly remembered emotions for his partner to care to argue with him at the moment. Marik leaned in to kiss Bakura again, then thought for a moment and said, “Now that I know who you are, I really don't mind showing you my scars. You’ve seen worse before.”

“Don’t bother!” Bakura laughed. “You wanted me to prove to you that you're more important to me, so I'll do this for you for nothing in return. If you want, you can show me the secret when we win.”

Marik couldn't help smiling and kissing him again. “It's a deal.”

Then Bakura looked at Marik and sighed. “Well, I guess it's time to go save your brother and defeat your dark side.”

“Yeah,” Marik agreed.

Then they finally extricated themselves from each other's embrace, and Bakura took over Ryou’s body and joined the physical world again.

“This is wild.” As Marik exited the soul room to stand beside Bakura in spirit form, his hand went up to his forehead. “My head’s still spinning a little with all the new memories of our lives together.”

“It’s a little overwhelming.” Bakura nodded.

“But you’re still connected to a demon and chasing vengeance. Bakari, what are you-”

“Marik, we don’t have time for that right now.”

“Rishid.” Marik sucked in a quick breath as he uttered his brothers name. “You’re right, my dark side is running around with _my_ body.” He looked at Bakura. “It’s going to be a hard fight.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re back at my side.” Bakura matched his fingers up with Marik’s ghost-like hand in an attempt to lace their fingers together despite Marik’s spirit form. They nodded at each other and left the room to find Marik’s brother and face his dark half.


	15. Chapter 15

Marik was devastated when they lost the duel against his dark side.

Bakura had said that he couldn't die, but Marik wasn't sure if he could believe that. He awoke and he listened, tried to mentally search the Ring, and he couldn't hear him, couldn't find him.

If Bakura was really gone, if he'd died, if he'd lost his chance at vengeance to try to help him...he couldn't forgive himself.

He wanted to give up, he wanted to let himself die, to let his dark self take over. It was only his siblings that pulled him back, gave him the will to fight.

And when Marik’s dark half had finally been destroyed, when he was about to give up the Items in his possession to the Pharaoh...that was when he finally heard him.

Bakura was still there. Joy bloomed inside Marik, and he tried to think quickly. He couldn't keep the Ring- it would look too suspicious, for both of them. And his siblings wouldn't understand. He didn't want to disappoint them again, not after all they'd done for him. He felt Bakura's anger as he thought of handing the Ring over to Yugi. But he knew he could tell Ryou where the Ring was, and Ryou would retrieve it. He could feel that Bakura still wasn't pleased, so he sent the thought that he'd hold up his end of the bargain, that he'd show his scars and Bakura would then be able to see the final key to the dark door.

As he felt Bakura's emotions calm slightly, he removed his shirt, keeping the Ring on as he did so that Bakura would be able to see the secret on his back. Marik bristled at the feeling of eyes on him, and he tried to calm himself by imagining that it was only Bakura seeing him, that they were alone, and he was showing his scars to only him.

Despite Bakura having gotten to see his scars as promised, he could feel that Bakura was still mad when, after revealing his back, he had to give up the Ring and the Rod to Yugi. But once Ryou stole the Ring back from Yugi, and everything had worked out as Marik had said it would, Bakura was willing enough to let it go. They spent a blissful but short time together before Bakura had to leave to fight his final battle against Atem.

Marik wished he didn't have to do it. He felt almost as if history were repeating itself- that again Bakura was going off to fight the pharaoh, and yet again it might be the thing that ripped them apart.

But he knew Bakura had to do this, and he comforted himself with the knowledge that because the spell had been fulfilled, they could not be separated. His soul and his partner’s were now bound together forever. Bakura's soul now belonged to Marik and not the demon. So even if Bakura lost, Marik would be able to find him again and bring him back.

So he didn't voice his worries to Bakura, didn't dare suggest out loud that he might lose, and only whispered his protection spells as Bakura slept and he caressed his unconscious form.

When Bakura did lose, as Marik feared, Marik didn't waste time crying or mourning. Instead he got to work looking for the spell that he knew must exist, the spell to bring Bakura back to him.

He searched through the archives of the tomb keepers until he found it. It did have a downside, but he wasn't surprised by that. Magic often had a cost- things needed to stay balanced, just like Ma’at’s scales. So he couldn't extract Bakura's soul from the Ring without putting something else back in to replace it, but Marik had an idea of what he could do.

With his knowledge of magic, it wasn't too difficult to draw a demon from the shadows to place inside the Ring so he could pull Bakura's soul out and into the realm of the living. The demon he trapped could stay in the Ring and rot for all Marik cared; what was important was that Bakura return to him.

He didn't even have to get the Ring into his possession- the magic drew Bakura's soul out, through the layers of sand and dirt that encased his prison, and filled the void he'd left with a dark monster from the underworld, trapping it inside the gold in Bakura's place.

Marik just hoped that no one would dig up the Ring and mess with it, as it now contained an evil entity- but really, there was no reason for anyone to use the Items ever again, and if they chose to, that really wasn't his problem.

All he cared about was the fact that the spell had worked, and Bakura was here with him again, his soul made corporeal and given form, now free of Zorc, whose claws had been in him for thousands of years.

The thief lay in the sand, asleep and wrapped up in his scarlet robe. Marik smiled as he reached down to pet his lover’s hair. He looked just as he had 3000 years ago when they'd lived in ancient Egypt.

“Wake up, Bakari.”

* * *

 

Bakari stepped out of the shower. He dried his hair with a towel, another one wrapped around his waist.

“I miss the oasis,” Bakari said when he saw Marik sitting on the bed. “Plumbing’s nice, but nothing’s quite as good as bathing in the sunlight.”

“There’s always skinny dipping.” Marik smirked.

Bakari looked at Marik for a long time, long enough to make Marik raise an eyebrow.

“Do I fascinate you?”

“Yes,” Bakura purred as he moved to sit beside Marik on the bed.

He dropped his hair towel to the ground and took Marik’s hand into his own. Bakari moved up to his wrists, caressing the skin with the pads of his fingers. Marik sighed.

“That feels nice.”

“I just realized that I’ve never been able to really touch you like this. Your entire body…”

He let the sentence drop, but Marik knew what he was trying to say.

“You know, now that I remember being Mahes, these scars don’t bother me anymore. At least they had a reason. I’m not thrilled that the Pharaoh’s memories will always be carved into me, but better someone’s memories than shapeless, useless scars.”

“It’s still not right.”

“But it’s what I chose for myself.” Marik squeezed Bakari’s hand. “For us.”

“I can never make it up to you, what you had to go through.”

“We’ll start with a lifetime supply of backrubs.” Marik winked.

“Mmm, that actually sounds a little fun. Do you have any oil?”

“As a matter of fact-” Marik slipped his shirt up over his shoulders and went to fetch the lavender oil out of his bathroom medicine cabinet.

He dropped his pants to the floor and crawled onto the bed, permitting Bakari to straddle him and coat his back in the fragrant oil.

“I did this once before,” Bakari said.

“Yes, I remember enjoying it very much.”

“Me too.” Bakari chuckled as he kneaded Marik’s shoulders.

Marik moaned in a loud, shameless voice.

“Already that good?” Bakari snickered.

“These scars aren’t nearly as bad as the old ones, so I can feel- oh gods! Bakari, your hands feel amazing.”

“Good,” Bakari whispered as he worked his way down Marik’s entire back.

He didn’t stop with Marik’s back. Bakari took his time, working out every knot and tight spot from Marik’s neck to his tailbone, but eventually, Bakari moved down to Marik’s ass and thighs.

“ _Ahhhhh, ahh! Ahhh!”_ Marik screamed. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods! Ahh! Gods! Bakari! K-keep touching me. Touch me everywhere. Holy fuck! Oh fuck! Oh gods! I could never feel this much before!”

Bakari was panting and sweating and flushed. Listening to Marik moan and curse just from Bakari’s fingers stroking his thighs had Bakari’s cock hard and twitching. He ignored his own need and teased the sensitive skin behind Marik’s knees.

Marik fisted the sheets, pulling himself forward an inch as he clawed at the bed. He threw back his head, whining in sheer ecstasy. “Oooooh! Oh! Fuck! Ah! Ahh! Ahh!”

Bakari rubbed down Marik’s calves. When he got to Marik’s ankles, he leaned forward and started to kiss below Marik’s ankle bone and back to his heel.

“K-kissing my feet, are you?” Marik stuttered, trying to keep his composure, but failing as he writhed in pleasure. “About time you- oh, oh yes! Bakari! Yes! Started treating me like, ahhh! The king I am.”

“Flip over,” Bakari said, grinning. He didn’t argue with Marik. He was too busy making Marik shout out embarrassing squeaks of pleasure. Marik turned onto his back, unbothered by the pressure on his scars in his hyper-aroused state. Bakari opened his mouth and started swirling his tongue around Marik’s middle toe.

“Oh! My! Gods! Bakari! Why didn’t you ever do this in Egypt?”

Bakari shrugged. He hadn’t done it in Egypt because he hadn't known about kinks three thousand years ago, but apparently toe-sucking was one of Marik’s, and he was happy to oblige him- going from toe to toe, sucking and licking until Marik was begging Bakari for nothing in particular, but begging _please, please, please_ all the same.

By the time Bakari decided to go back up to Marik’s shins and thighs Marik was hoarse from calling out. It didn’t stop him; he continued to moan and curse in a rough, husky voice. Bakari knew Marik wanted his cock sucked, but the moment was too good for Bakari to want to end it just yet.

So many nights Bakari and Mahes had kissed and held hands, but always at a distance, always at an agonizing distance because the scars had hurt Mahes too much for them to get physically closer. But now Marik only had scars on his back. They were painful, and deep, and horrible, but Marik’s thighs, his arms, his chest, were all there for Bakari to lick and kiss and touch, and he was going to, gods yes, he couldn’t stop himself from caressing Marik into a desperate frenzy even as his own cock screamed for friction.

He rubbed their chests together as he finally claimed Marik’s mouth. They rolled against each other, unable to help pressing their dicks together as well. Marik reached over for the bottle of oil and rubbed a generous coat on their chests, bellies, and cocks. They slid back and forth, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies, enjoying the sensation of skin slipping pleasurably against skin, and enjoying the slick, amazing heat of their cocks as their hips continued to buck into each other.

Marik took them both in hand so that their shafts and tips could rub closer together. Their kisses broke as they both called out. Marik arched, pressing harder against Bakari’s body. Covered in oil, their bodies glided together, and Bakari moaned not just from the shivers running up his cock and into his belly, but because of the closeness he felt to Marik at that moment.

He leaned down, kissing Marik’s neck, his shoulders, his chest. He never stopping circling his hips, but he couldn’t stop kissing Marik- so much skin, so many sensitive places to find, so many ways to love his freed tombkeeper.

The pleasure in Bakura’s groin grew tight. He snatched a final kiss against the gold at Marik’s throat and then Bakari started to hitch faster and faster. The oil had somewhat soaked into their skin, giving the perfect amount of friction to their cocks. With several, deep, swift thrusts, Bakari threw his head back and cried out to the gods as he came.

Without warning, Marik rolled them over so he could lay on top of Bakari and take the lead. Bakari’s cock dripped come, and he was still mostly hard and Marik continued to rut against him until his head swelled huge and red-violet. Marik held their shafts together, stroking with his hand as he pushed gently with his hips and then finally splashed come all over Bakari’s toned, brown stomach.

They both gasped for air and shook against each other, sweat gleaming off of their bodies.

“That was way too good,” Marik panted and blinked his eyes, trying to process everything.

Bakari rolled onto his side, cupping Marik’s face in his hands and kissing him. He dabbed his tongue against Marik’s lips in order to taste the salt from their sweat before pulling away.

“Hey, beautiful?”

“What?” Marik snorted like it was a joke, but his eyes grew soft at the old nickname.

“Kiss me.” Bakari drew his mouth close to Marik’s. “And don’t stop until we’re both hard enough to go at it again.”

Marik grinned, leaning forward and pulling at Bakari’s bottom lip with his teeth for a moment before he pulled back enough to answer.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They lived happily ever after.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the nice comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart based on this fic:
> 
> [Beautiful Fanart by Abbey Wan](http://chaosrocket.tumblr.com/post/160288549884/)
> 
> [Beautiful Fanart by FluffyBiscuits](http://chaosrocket.tumblr.com/post/162736028964/)


End file.
